folded itself involuntarily about the white, round wrist, as he paused
on these last words. Was it the little possessive pronoun that sent the
sudden thrill through the unexpecting wrist? At any rate it trembled;
the cup, the saucer, the coffee, the spoon, followed a well known
precedent, and "went to pieces all at once;" "all at once and nothing
first just as bubbles do when they burst." And so alas! did the
conversation, and that burst a beautiful bubble Norman had just blown.

Damages were barely repaired when Eric entered the breakfast room with a
petulant sort of face and flung himself into a chair. "My! what a head I
have on me this morning," he groaned. "Soda water would be worth all the
coffee in the world, Mae; I'll take it black, if you please. How cosy
you two look. I always take too much of every thing at a party, from
flirtation to--O, Mae, you needn't look so sad. I'm not the one in
disgrace now. Mrs. Jerrold, Edith and Albert are just piping mad at you,
and as for Mann, here,--by the way," and Eric rubbed his forehead, as if
trying to sharpen up a still sleepy memory, "I suppose you two have had
it out by this time. Norman sat up till ever so late to talk you over
with me, Mae. Do thank him for me; I am under the impression that I
didn't do so last night."

Mae tapped her fourth finger, on which a small ring glistened, sharply
against the cream jug. "If I were every body's pet lamb or black sheep,
I couldn't have more shepherd's crooks about me. Have you joined the
laudable band, Mr. Mann, and am I requested to thank you for that?"

"Not at all. Perhaps your brother's remembrances of last night are not
very distinct. I certainly sat up for Sismondi's sake, not for yours."
And he really thought, for the moment, that he told the truth.