“Mr. Bainrothe amuses me,” observed Evelyn after we were alone again.  “He is so transparent, dear old butterfly!  He need not be alarmed!  I have put a quietus on all presumptuous hopes in that quarter forever, and now, Miriam, I hand him over to you signed and sealed ’Claude Bainrothe rejected and emancipated by Evelyn Erie, and ready for fresh servitude—­apprenticed, in short.’”

“Thank you,” I rejoined, dryly, speaking with a tightness at my throat.

“He thinks you quite good-looking, Miriam, I assure you; he was agreeably disappointed, even after what he had heard of your appearance—­from the Stanburys, I suppose—­and observed that there were fine elements in your character, too, if properly shaped and combined—­a great deal of ‘come out.’”

“He is truly gracious and condescending,” I replied, “I thank him humbly.”

“It was very plain that you admired him, Miriam.  Any one could see that.  I noticed his internal amusement at your fluttered manner.”

“Did he tell you what his thoughts were, Evelyn, or do you merely interpret them after your own fashion?” I asked, sternly.

“Oh, of course he said nothing of the kind; I would not have permitted it, had he wished to.  Poor fellow!  I hope you will be kinder to him than I have been,” and she sighed heavily.  “He is yours now to have and to hold, you know.”

“You have not shown your usual good taste, Evelyn,” I remarked, coolly, “in rejecting so handsome and fascinating a man, and making him over to another, unsolicited.  Claude Bainrothe would suit you exactly, I think; and, as to money, he will have enough, no doubt, for both.  If not”—­I hesitated—­colored—­sighed.

“If not, what, Miriam?” she urged, stamping her little foot impatiently as my answer was delayed.  “If not, what then, Miriam?  Speak out!”

“If not, dear sister, I will try to make up the deficiency,” I said, embracing her.  “Now you understand my intentions.”

I was learning to love my sister, and happy in the power to please her, unconscious that an invisible barrier was rising from that hour, never to be put aside.

CHAPTER IV.

For a discarded lover heartlessly played with, as she herself confessed he had been, Claude Bainrothe bore himself very proudly and calmly in Evelyn Erle’s presence, I thought.  At first, there was a shade of coolness, of pique even in my own manner toward him as the memory of Evelyn’s insinuations rose between us; but after the lapse of a few weeks all thought of this kind was put away, and he was received with a pleasure as undisguised, as it was innocent and undesigning on my part.

The repugnant idea of succeeding to Evelyn in his affections had stifled the very germs of coquetry, and my manner to him was unmistakable; nor was it without evident dissatisfaction that Mr. Basil Bainrothe surveyed the ruin of his hopes.