“I understand,” thought Greenleaf; but he made no further reply.

“Don’t be surprised, if you see us before your stay is over,—­that is, if Lydia and I can induce Charles to go down with us.  Henry is too busy, I suppose.”

Charles passed just then; he was endeavoring to form a cotillon, declaring that talk was slow, and, now that the music was over, a dance would be the thing.

“Charles, you will go to Nahant for a week,—­won’t you?”

“What! now?”

“In a day or two.”

“Too cold, Sister Marcia; too late, altogether.”

“But you were unwilling to go early in the season.”

“Too early is as bad as too late; it is chilly there till the company comes.  No billiards, no hops, no pwetty girls, no sailing, no wides on the beach, no pwomenades on the moonlight side of the piazza.  No, my deah, Nahant is stupid till the curwent sets that way.”

“Southern visitors warm the coast like the Gulf Stream, I suppose,” said Greenleaf.

“Pwecisely so,”—­then, after the idea had reached his brain, adding, “Vewy good, Mr. Gweenleaf!  Vewy good!”

The soiree ended as all seasons of pleasure must, and without the dance on which Charles had set his heart.  The friends walked home together.  Greenleaf was rather silent, but Easelmann at last made him talk.

“What do you think of the beauty, now?” the elder asked.

“Still brilliant, bewitching, dangerous.”

“You are not afraid of her?”

“Upon my soul, I believe I am.”

“What has frightened you?  What faults or defects have you seen?”

“Two.  One is, she uses perfumes too freely.  Stop that laugh of yours!  It’s a trifling thing, but it is an indication.  I don’t like it.”

“Fastidious man, what next?  Has she more hairs on one eyebrow than the other?  Or did you see a freckle of the size of a fly’s foot?”

“The second is in her manner, which, in spite of its ease and apparent artlessness, has too much method in it.  Her suavity is no more studied than her raptures.  She is frosted all over,—­frosted like a cake, I mean, and not with ice.  And, to follow the image, I have no idea what sort of a compound the tasteful confectionery covers.”

“Well, if that is all, I think she has come out from under your scrutiny pretty well.  I should like to see the woman in whom you would not find as many faults.”

“If a man does not notice trifles, he will never learn much of character.  With women especially, one should be as observing as a Huron on the trail of an enemy.”

“Ferocious hunter, who supposed there were so many wiles in your simple heart?”

“Odd enough, there seemed to be a succession of warnings this evening.  I was dazzled at first, I own,—­almost hopelessly smitten.  But Sandford gave me a jolt by bringing in business; he thinks there is to be a smash, and advises me to make hay while the sun shines.  Then I talked with Mrs. Sandford.”