“Yes, all alike,” I repeated, making, as I spoke, one mental entire reservation.  “All vain alike, I mean; flatter their vanity ever so little and they are at your very feet, asking ‘for more,’ like Oliver Twist; more bread for amour propre, the insatiable!  It was that sketch of mine that wrought the spell, though unintentionally, of course, and the sly fellow knew very well that it was no caricature—­that is, if he peeped, as he pretends—­but a tolerably correct likeness that might have satisfied Sall herself.  By-the-by, I have a great mind to bestow it upon him as a ‘sop for Cerberus,’ should her jealousy ever be aroused by your reports of his devotion to me, or admiration rather, most unequivocally avowed, it must be acknowledged.  I really had no intention of injuring Sally, and, if you think it best, will make the amende honorable by being as cross as possible to him to-morrow.”

“No, no, carry out your first intention and conciliate him; for, remember, he has us in the hollow of his hand.  Bestow the picture, by all means, and just as many smiles and compliments as he can stand, or you can afford to squander; for you are worse than a mermaid, Miss Harz, for fascination, all the gentlemen say so; and, as to Captain Falconer—­”

“They are malignants,” I rejoined, ignoring purposely the last clause of the sentence which I had interrupted; “and you are perfidious to hear them slander me so.  I hate fascinating people; they always make my flesh crawl like serpents.  The few I have known have been so very base.”  “Good specimens of ‘thorough bass,’” she interpolated, laughing.—­“I am sure I am glad I have no attributes of fascination, if a strange old work I met with at Beauseincourt may be considered responsible.  Did you ever see it, Miss Lamarque, you who see every thing?  Hieronymus Frascatorius tells of certain families in Crete who fascinated by praising, and to avert this evil influence some charm was used consisting of a magic word (I suppose this was typical of humility, though related as literal).  This naivete on the part of the old chronicler was simply impayable, as Major Favraud would say, with his characteristic shrug.  One Varius related (you see my theme has full possession of me, and the book is, a collation of facts on the subject of fascination of all kinds, even down to that of the serpent) that a friend of his saw a fascinator with a look break in two a precious gem in the hands of a lapidary—­typical this, I suppose, of some fond, foolish, female heart.  Fire, according to this author, represents the quality of fascination; and toads and moths are subject to its influence, as well as some higher animals—­deer, for instance, who are hunted successfully with torches; and he relates, further, that in Abyssinia artificers of pottery and iron are thus fearfully endowed, and are consequently forbidden to join in the sacred rites of religion, as fire is their chief agent.  Isn’t this a strange, quaint volume, to set before a king? and how do you like my lecture delivered extempore?”.