So she came down with a slightly defiant air; but meeting with nothing worse than a gravely knowing glance from Miss Opie, sat down to the piano to escape questioning.

Mrs. Leigh’s thoughts were complacently occupied with the visitor.  She only wanted further confirmation to place him in the light of a future son-in-law.  Adversity had not given her the wisdom of the serpent, and she never dreamed of possible danger in the attentions of this unknown young man to her beautiful, but portionless, child.

However, her mind became unsettled again by the appearance of another suitor, in dog-skin gloves of a brilliant tan, and his usual air of cheerful confidence.  No guile was there in Jack Vavasour, whose prostrate adoration of her daughter was so undisguised, that she mentally deposed Bertie (whose devotion was more problematical) in his favour.  Still she thought, “I should never think of influencing dear Bluebell one way or the other, and we shall see which proposes first.”

Jack’s visit, as usual, was a lengthy one.  His fair enslaver had recovered her spirits, and no longer metaphorically turned her face to the wall.  She was glad of distraction, and not ungratified by his allegiance, though without the slightest idea of returning it.

Like the boys and the frogs, she did not consider that what was sport to the one was hard on the other, and probably would not have cared if it had struck her; for, whatever poets may say, there is no more thoroughly heartless age than sweet seventeen.  When he sat on till the arrival of the unappetizing meal they called a meat-tea, Bluebell did not wince at her mother inviting him to join it, simply because his opinion was a matter of indifference to her, though she carelessly recommended him not to be late for mess.

Jack, however, with magnanimous disregard of that usually important period of his day, stayed his healthy young appetite with the cold joint from dinner; and he and Bluebell amused themselves frying eggs and roasting chestnuts, which further assuaged its keen demands.

Many times during the evening did Mrs. Leigh leave the room, on the principle that young people like to be alone together.  But all her tactics failed to uproot Miss Opie, who clung to her book and her seat by the fire, partly from the contrary conviction that young persons should never be alone together, and partly because, save in the kitchen, there was no other fire in the house.

“What shall we do?” cried Bluebell, with the faintest of yawns, tired of consuming their culinary labours.  “You don’t care for music, I know.  There’s an old chess-board somewhere; and I can’t think of anything but cat’s-cradle, if you don’t like that.”

“I can play,” said Jack, stoutly, who had not attempted it since his childhood, but only wanted an excuse to remain on.  So they sat down at the spidery table, saying little; Jack quite well entertained with his hand frequently coming in contact with Bluebell’s on the board.  He would have liked to crush up that little member in his own, and meditated the bold coup more than once, but was always discouraged by that far away, unconscious look in her eyes.