‘Pat won’t, and I will,’ said he.

‘But Pat shall, and you had better not,’ said she.  ’Besides, my dear Ferdinand,’ she added, laughing, ‘you don’t know how to do it.’

‘Do you want me to prostrate on all fours, Rose?’

’No.  I hope not.  Do get up, Ferdinand.  You’ll be seen from the windows.’

Instead of quitting his posture, he caught her hand, and scared her with a declaration.

‘Of all men, you to be on your knees! and to me, Ferdinand!’ she cried, in discomfort.

‘Why shouldn’t I, Rose?’ was this youth’s answer.

He had got the idea that foreign cavalier manners would take with her; but it was not so easy to make his speech correspond with his posture, and he lost his opportunity, which was pretty.  However, he spoke plain English.  The interview ended by Rose releasing Pat from drill, and running off in a hurry.  Where was Evan?  She must have his consent to speak to her mother, and prevent a recurrence of these silly scenes.

Evan was with Caroline, his sister.

It was contrary to the double injunction of the Countess that Caroline should receive Evan during her absence, or that he should disturb the dear invalid with a visit.  These two were not unlike both in organization and character, and they had not sat together long before they found each other out.  Now, to further Evan’s love-suit, the Countess had induced Caroline to continue yet awhile in the Purgatory Beckley Court had become to her; but Evan, in speaking of Rose, expressed a determination to leave her, and Caroline caught at it.

’Can you?—­will you?  Oh, dear Van! have you the courage?  I—­look at me—­you know the home I go to, and—­and I think of it here as a place to be happy in.  What have our marriages done for us?  Better that we had married simple stupid men who earn their bread, and would not have been ashamed of us!  And, my dearest, it is not only that.  None can tell what our temptations are.  Louisa has strength, but I feel I have none; and though, dear, for your true interest, I would indeed sacrifice myself—­ I would, Van!  I would!—­it is not good for you to stay,—­I know it is not.  For you have Papa’s sense of honour—­and oh! if you should learn to despise me, my dear brother!’

She kissed him; her nerves were agitated by strong mental excitement.  He attributed it to her recent attack of illness, but could not help asking, while he caressed her: 

‘What’s that?  Despise you?’

It may have been that Caroline felt then, that to speak of something was to forfeit something.  A light glimmered across the dewy blue of her beautiful eyes.  Desire to breathe it to him, and have his loving aid:  the fear of forfeiting it, evil as it was to her, and at the bottom of all, that doubt we choose to encourage of the harm in a pleasant sin unaccomplished; these might be read in the rich dim gleam that swept like sunlight over sea-water between breaks of clouds.