"Certainly, you are to me,--a mere infant. Have I not seen you one; have
I not held you in my arms?"

VIOLANTE.--"But that was a long time ago!"

HARLEY.--"True. But if years have not stood still for you, they have not
been stationary for me. There is the same difference between us now that
there was then. And, therefore, permit me still to call you child, and
as child to treat you!"

VIOLANTE.--"I will do no such thing. Do you know that I always thought I
was good-tempered till this morning."

HARLEY.--"And what undeceived you? Did you break your doll?"

VIOLANTE (with an indignant flash from her dark eyes).---"There!--again!
--you delight in provoking me!"

HARLEY.--"It was the doll, then. Don't cry; I will get you another."

Violante plucked her arm from him, and walked away towards the countess
in speechless scorn. Harley's brow contracted, in thought and in gloom.
He stood still for a moment or so, and then joined the ladies.

"I am trespassing sadly on your morning; but I wait for a visitor whom I
sent to before you were up. He is to be here at twelve. With your
permission, I will dine with you tomorrow, and you will invite him to
meet me."

"Certainly. And who is your friend? I guess--the young author?"