first I enjoyed it, but now I'm bored to extinction."

"I can understand," said Molly, "when anything becomes quite easy it
doesn't seem worth while to do it. But isn't there anything difficult
you want to do?"

"Yes," said Edmund, "there are two things; one is plainly impossible,
and the other is not hopeful, and neither of them prevents my feeling
bored, for unfortunately neither of them gives me enough to do."

"Couldn't you work more at them?" asked Molly, with much sympathy.

"No," he said, as if talking to himself, "no one has the power to make a
woman change her nature, and the other matter needs an expert. Good
Heavens!" he stopped short, in astonishment at himself.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Molly, while a deep flush of colour rose
in her dark cheeks.

"You must be a witch," he said lightly; "you make me say things I don't
in the least mean to say, and that I have never said to anyone else. And
here is a distracted partner, Edgar Tonmore, coming to reproach you."

"Our dance is nearly over, Miss Dexter," said a young, fresh voice, and
a most pleasing specimen of well-built and well-trained manhood stood
before them. "I have been looking for you everywhere."

Molly and Edmund rose.

He stood where they left him watching her whirl