fate. He, poor victim! with all his soul on tiptoe walking the outline of his right[Pg 81] whisker, he knew not what awaited him.—He knew not that behind him, sat a weak woman who had determined to snatch him from himself; to carry him away, whether he would or not; to hurry him to a venerable edifice; and then and there rivet on him a chain for life. And this, it is our faith, is a sentence often passed in silence on the unsuspecting sufferer: a sentence pronounced in self-confidence in play-house boxes, in ball-room corners; possibly, even in cathedral pews. The judge, all outward smiles and tenderness, has thoughts of a life-long sentence at heart. How beautiful that it should be so! To our imagination how much more delicious the simple, balmy flower, when we know that it smiles so sweetly, and to all appearance so unconsciously of the wedding-ring gold, so very deep below. [Pg 81] “Well, I do look well—devilish well to-day,” said Sir Arthur to the baronet in the glass. “I don’t think I ever saw myself look better. Handsome—when I say handsome, I mean quite a butcher. Miss Candituft,” cried Sir Arthur, suddenly startled by the vision. “I didn’t speak! I didn’t say a word—did I?” cried Hodmadod. “I don’t think I spoke. Eh?” “Not a word,” answered the lady; “not a syllable; it was only ‘the mind, the music breathing from his face.’ What a shame it is you should be so handsome, Sir Arthur. Really, you go in great danger. You’ll be carried off by some band of desperate women, and afterwards raffled for; you’ll be married some day in spite of your screams. By the way, Sir Arthur,”—and Caroline fixed the baronet with her cold, full look—“What brings you here?” “Oh, friendship. That is, when I say friendship, I”— “Yes; the old meaning. Well, you always had an admirable taste, Sir Arthur. I must say that; an admirable taste, even before your looking-glass. Dear me!”—and she suddenly rose and crossed to the window—“quite a garden here. Well, I have often wondered what fools flowers were, to grow in London: I mean—but Sir Arthur, of course, you know what I mean.” And saying this, Miss Candituft stept upon the verandah; and[Pg 82] for a time, there is no doubt of it, divided her admiration between flowers and music; the geraniums about her, and a barrel organ below her. [Pg 82] The next minute, and Agatha returned with even a deeper flush in her face—with a more vivacious sparkle in her eye—with a quicker tremor in
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