“Give it to me! I’ll mend it for you — and for heaven’s sake, you wretched creature, don’t kick up any more larks today!” said Sophy.

He grinned at her, stripped off the coat, and handed it to her. “What did happen last night?” he asked. “Don’t know when I’ve seen my father in such a taking! Is Cecilia going to marry Fawnhope?”

“Ask her!” Sophy advised him. “I will have your coat ready for you in twenty minutes. Come to my room then, and you shall have it!”

She ran up the stairs and without waiting to change her riding habit, sat down by the window to repair the rent caused by Jacko’s fury. She was a deft needlewoman and had mended half the tear with her tiny stitches when Cecilia came to her room. Cecilia was strongly of the opinion that Hubert might have found someone else to do his mending and begged her to put it aside. This, however, Sophy refused to do, merely saying, “I can listen to you while I work, you know. What a goose you were last night, Cecy!”

This brought Cecilia’s chin up. She enunciated with great clarity, “I am betrothed to Augustus, and if I may not marry him I will marry no one!”

“I daresay, but to make such an announcement in the middle of a ball!”

“Sophy, I thought you would feel for me!”

It occurred to Sophy suddenly that the fewer people to sympathize with Cecilia the better it would be, so she kept her head bent over her work, and said lightly, “Well, and so I do, but I still think it was a ridiculous moment to choose for making such an announcement!”

Cecilia began to tell her again what provocation had been supplied by Charles; she agreed, but absently, and appeared to be more exercised with the set of Hubert’s coat than with Cecilia’s wrongs. She shook it out, smoothed the darn she had made, and, when Hubert came knocking at the door, cut Cecilia short to jump up and restore the garment to him. The end of all this was that when, at four o’clock, Lord Charlbury sent up his card, with a request to see Miss Rivenhall, Cecilia, almost forced to accede to his wishes, found in him her only sympathizer. One glance at her pale face and tragic mien banished from his mind all notion of duplicity. He stepped quickly forward, took the hand so shrinkingly held out to I and said in a deeply concerned voice. “Do not look so happy! Indeed, I have not come to distress you!”

Her eyes filled with tears; her hand slightly returned the pressure of his before it was withdrawn; and she managed to say something, in a suffocated voice, about his kindness,’ and her own regret. He obliged her to be seated, himself took a chair near to hers, and said, “My sentiments have undergone no change; indeed, I believe it to be impossible that they should! But I have been told — I have understood — that yours were never engaged. Believe me, if you cannot return my regard, I honor you for having the courage to say so. That; you should be constrained to accept my suit, when your heart is given to another, is a thought wholly repugnant to me! Forgive me! I think you have had to bear a great deal on this head which I never intended, or indeed, dreamed — But I have said enough! Only let me assure you that I will do all that lies in my power to put an end to such intolerable promptings!”

“You are all consideration — all goodness!” Cecilia uttered. “I am so sorry that — that expectations which it is not in my power to fulfill should have been raised! If my gratitude for a sensibility which permits you to feel for me in my present predicament, for a chivalry which — ” Her voice became wholly suspended by tears; she could only turn away her face and make a gesture imploring his understanding.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Say no more! I always thought the prize beyond my reach. Though you deny me that nearer relationship which I so ardently desire, we may continue friends? If there is any way in which I can serve you, will you tell me of it? That would be a happiness indeed!”

“Oh, do not say so! You are too good!”

The door opened; Mr. Rivenhall came into the room, checked an instant on the threshold, when he saw Charlbury, and looked as though he would have retired again. Charlbury rose, however, and said, “I am glad you are at home, Charles, for I believe I can settle this business better with you than with anyone. You sister and I have agreed that we shall not suit.”

“I see,” said Mr. Rivenhall dryly. “There seems to be .nothing I can profitably say, except that I am sorry. I conclude you wish me to inform my father that there is to be no engagement?”

“Lord Charlbury has been everything that is most kind — most magnanimous!” whispered Cecilia.

“That I can believe,” responded Mr. Rivenhall.

“Nonsense!” Charlbury said, taking her hand. “I shall leave you now, but I hope I may still visit this house, on terms of friendship. You friendship I must always value, you know. Perhaps I may not dance at your wedding, but I shall wish you very happy, upon my honor!”

He pressed her hand, released it, and went out of the room, followed by Mr. Rivenhall, who escorted him downstairs to the hall, saying, “This is a damnable business, Everard. She is out of her senses! But as for marrying that — no, by God!”

“Your cousin tells me it is all my fault for having willfully contracted mumps!” Charlbury said ruefully.

“Sophy!” Mr. Rivenhall ejaculated in anything but loving accents. “I do not think we have had a day’s peace since that girl entered the house!”

“I shouldn’t think you would,” said his lordship reflectively. “She is the oddest female I ever met, but I own I like her. Do you not?”

“No, I do not!” said Mr. Rivenhall.

He saw Charlbury off the premises and turned back into the house just as Hubert came down the stairs, in long bounds. “Hallo, where are you off to in such haste?” he inquired.

“Oh, nowhere!” Hubert answered. “Just out!”

“When do you go up to Oxford again?”

“Next week. Why?”

“Do you care to go with me to Thorpe Grange tomorrow? I must go down and shall stay a night, I daresay.”

Hubert shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m off to stay with Harpenden for a couple of nights, you know.”

“I didn’t. Newmarket?”

Hubert flushed. “Dash it, why shouldn’t I go to Newmarket, if I choose?”

“There is no reason why you should not, but I could wish that you would choose your company more wisely. Are you set on it? We could ride over from Thorpe, if you liked.”

“Very good of you, Charles, but I’m promised to Harpenden and can’t fail now!” Hubert said gruffly. “Very well. Don’t draw the bustle too much!” Hubert hunched his shoulder. “I knew you would say that!”

“I’ll say something else, and you may believe it! I can’t and I won’t be saddled with your racing bets, so don’t bet beyond your means!”

He waited for no answer, but went upstairs again to the drawing room, where he found his sister still seated where he had left her, weeping softly into a shred of a handkerchief. He tossed his own into her lap. “If you must be a watering pot, take mine!” he recommended. “Are satisfied? You should be! It is not every girl who can boa of having rejected a man like Charlbury!”

“I do not boast of it!” she retorted, firing up. “But I nothing for wealth and position! Where my affections not engaged — ”

“You might care for worth of character, however! You , could search England without finding a better fellow, Cecilia., Don’t flatter yourself you have found one in your poet! I wish you may not live to regret this day’s work.”

“I am aware that Lord Charlbury has every amiable quality,” she said, in, a subdued voice, and mopping her wet cheeks with his handkerchief. “Indeed, I believe him to be the finest gentleman of my acquaintance, and if I am crying it is from sorrow at having been obliged to wound him!”

He walked over to the window and stood looking out into the square. “It is useless now to remonstrate with you. After your announcement last night it is not very likely that Charlbury would desire to marry you. What do you mean to do? I may tell you now that my father will not consent to your marriage with Fawnhope.”

“Because you will not let him consent! Can you not be content, Charles, with making a marriage of convenience yourself, without wishing me to do the same?” she cried hotly.

He stiffened. “It is not difficult to perceive my cousin’s influence at work!” he said. “Before her arrival in London, you would not have spoken so to me! My regard for Eugenia — ”

“If you loved, Charles, you would not talk of your regard for Eugenia!”

It was at this inappropriate moment that Dassett ushered Miss Wraxton into the room. Cecilia whisked her brother’s handkerchief out of sight, a tide of crimson flooding her cheeks; Mr. Rivenhall turned away from the window, and said with a palpable effort, “Eugenia! We did not expect this pleasure! How do you do?”

She gave him her hand, but turned her gaze upon Cecilia, saying, “Tell me it is not so! I was never more shocked in my life than when Alfred told me what had occurred last night!”

Almost insensibly the brother and sister drew closer together. “Alfred?” repeated Mr. Rivenhall.

“He told me, when we drove home after the ball, that he could not choose but overhear what Cecilia had said to you, Charles. And Lord Charlbury! I could not believe it to have been possible!”

Loyalty, as much as the ties of affection, kept Mr. Rivenhall ranged on the side of his sister, but he looked to be very much annoyed, which indeed he was, for he thought it inexcusable of Cecilia to have placed him in such a situation. He said repressively, “If you mean that Cecilia and Lord Charlbury ; have made up their minds to it they would not suit, you are I quite correct. I do not know what business it is of Alfred’s, or why he must run to you with what he overhears!”