"Oh!" said Zoe, "I see; you want him for yourself. It is _you_ that are
not content with one. You forget how poor Harrington would miss your
attentions. He would _begin_ to appreciate them--when he had lost them."

This stung, and Fanny turned white and red by turns. "I deserve this,"
said she, "for wasting advice on a coquette."

"That is not true. I'm no coquette; and here I am, asking your advice,
and you only snub me. You are a jealous, cross, unreasonable thing."

"Well, I'm not a hypocrite."

'I never was called so before," said Zoe, nobly and gently.

"Then you were not found out, that is all. You look so simple and
ingenuous, and blush if a man says half a word to you; and all the time
you are a greater flirt than I am."

"Oh, Fanny!" screamed Zoe, with horror.

It seems a repartee may be conveyed in a scream; for Fanny now lost her
temper altogether. "Your conduct with those two men is abominable," said
she. "I won't speak to you any more."

"I beg you will _not,_ in your present temper," said Zoe, with unaffected
dignity, and rising like a Greek column.

Fanny flounced out of the room.

Zoe sat down and sighed, and her glorious eyes were dimmed.