dramatically, albeit there was no one to see and admire. For she was
strangely captivating, and perhaps it was hardly to be expected that
she should be quite unconscious of the fact.

"Much too taking to be good, dear," had been the verdict of the
Commissioner's wife when she had first seen little Puck Merryon, the
major's bride.

But then the Commissioner's wife, Mrs. Paget, was so severely plain in
every way that perhaps she could scarcely be regarded as an impartial
judge. She had never flirted with any one, and could not know the joys
thereof.

Young Mrs. Merryon, on the other hand, flirted quite openly and very
sweetly with every man she met. It was obviously her nature so to do.
She had doubtless done it from her cradle, and would probably continue
the practice to her grave.

"A born wheedler," the colonel called her; but his wife thought "saucy
minx" a more appropriate term, and wondered how Major Merryon could put
up with her shameless trifling.

As a matter of fact, Merryon wondered himself sometimes; for she flirted
with him more than all in that charming, provocative way of hers, coaxed
him, laughed at him, brilliantly eluded him. She would perch daintily on
the arm of his chair when he was busy, but if he so much as laid a hand
upon her she was gone in a flash like a whirling insect, not to return
till he was too absorbed to pay any attention to her. And often as those
daring red lips mocked him, they were never offered to his even in
jest. Yet was she so finished a coquette that the omission was never