"I'm so glad--poor old dear!"

"You are aware that I did not come here to speak of my mother's dog,
Marian?"

"I supposed not," said Marian, with a smile. "But now that you have made
your apology, wont you come upstairs? Nelly is there."

"I have something else to say--to you alone, Marian. I entreat you to
listen to it seriously." Marian looked as grave as she could. "I
confess that in some respects I do not understand you; and before you
enter upon another London season, through which I cannot be at your
side, I would obtain from you some assurance of the nature of your
regard for me. I do not wish to harass you with jealous importunity. You
have given me the most unequivocal tokens of a feeling different from
that which inspires the ordinary intercourse of a lady and gentleman in
society; but of late it has seemed to me that you maintain as little
reserve toward other men as toward me. I am not thinking of Marmaduke:
he is your cousin. But I observed that even the working man who sang at
the concert last night was received--I do not say intentionally--with a
cordiality which might have tempted a more humbly disposed person than
he seemed to be to forget----" Here Douglas, seeing Marian's bearing
change suddenly, hesitated. Her beautiful gray eyes, always pleading for
peace like those of a good angel, were now full of reproach; and her
mouth, but for those eyes, would have suggested that she was at heart an
obstinate woman.

"Sholto," she said, "I dont know what to say to you. If this is
jealousy, it may be very flattering; but it is ridiculous. If it is a
lecture, seriously intended, it is--it is really most insulting. What