Mr. Bainrothe became unreasonably nervous, I thought. He fidgeted with
his hat, and gloves, and cane, which he took from the table near him,
dropping the last as he did so; he glanced impatiently at the door
through which my father was to enter, and, when finally his friend came,
after a brief conference in a corner with regard to the papers he had
gone out to seek, probably, summoned his son abruptly and darted off in
true Continental style, followed by his more stately junior.

"Mr. Bainrothe amuses me," observed Evelyn after we were alone again.
"He is so transparent, dear old butterfly! He need not be alarmed! I
have put a quietus on all presumptuous hopes in that quarter forever,
and now, Miriam, I hand him over to you signed and sealed 'Claude
Bainrothe rejected and emancipated by Evelyn Erie, and ready for fresh
servitude--apprenticed, in short.'"

"Thank you," I rejoined, dryly, speaking with a tightness at my throat.

"He thinks you quite good-looking, Miriam, I assure you; he was
agreeably disappointed, even after what he had heard of your
appearance--from the Stanburys, I suppose--and observed that there were
fine elements in your character, too, if properly shaped and combined--a
great deal of '_come out_.'"

"He is truly gracious and condescending," I replied, "I thank him
humbly."

"It was very plain that you admired him, Miriam. Any one could see that.
I noticed his internal amusement at your fluttered manner."

"Did he tell you what his thoughts were, Evelyn, or do you merely