her favors; but I am sure that she has no truer friend, or more ardent
admirer."

"You are altogether mistaken in your premises," she said, coolly, as she
tossed her fragrant fan of sandal wood, perfuming the soft atmosphere
about them.

"A subject who sues for a favor at court, Miss Huntington, if he is
unsuccessful, thinks himself at least entitled to know the reason why he
is denied."

"But suppose the Court declines to give him a reason," said the lady,
still coolly.

"Its decision admits of no appeal, I must acknowledge," replied her
suitor.

"Then reason I have none, captain; and so pray let that suffice."

"But, Miss Huntington, surely--"

"Nay, captain," she said, at last, weary of his importunity, "you know
well my feelings. Far be it from me to play for one moment the
coquette's part. I thank you for the compliment you pay me by these
assurances, but you are fully aware that I can never encourage a suit
that finds no response in my heart. I trust that no word or act of mine
has ever deceived you for one moment."

"No, Miss Huntington, you have ever been thus cold and impassive towards
me, ever turning a deaf ear to my prayer. Why, why can you not love me?"