“It is all self-deception,” gasped Fountain, in considerable agitation; “you girls are always deceiving yourselves:  you none of you hate any man—­unless you love him.  He tells me you have encouraged him of late.  You had better tell me that is a lie.”

“A lie, uncle; what an expression!  Mr. Talboys is a gentleman; he would not tell a falsehood, I presume.”

“Aha! it is true, then, you have encouraged him?”

“A little.”

“There, you see; the moment we come from the generalities to facts, what a simpleton you are proved to be.  Come, now, did you or did you not agree to go in a boat with him?”

“I did, dear.”

“That was a pretty strong measure, Lucy.”

“Very strong, I think.  I can tell you I hesitated.”

“Now you see how you have mistaken your own feelings.”

Lucy hung her head.  “Oh uncle, you call me simple—­and look at you! fancy not seeing why I agreed to go—­dans cette galere. It was that Mr. Talboys might declare himself, and so I might get rid of him forever.  I saw that if I could not bring him to the point, he would dangle about me for years, and perhaps, at last, succeed in irritating me to rudeness.  But now, of course, I shall stay on shore with my uncle to-morrow. Qu’irais je faire dana cette galere? you have done it all for me.  Oh, my dear, dear uncle, I am so grateful to you!”

She showed symptoms of caressing Mr. Fountain, but he recoiled from her angrily.  “Viper! but no, this is not you.  There is a deeper hand than you in all this.  This is that Mrs. Bazalgette’s doings.”

“No, indeed, uncle.”

“Give me a proof it is not.”

“With pleasure; any proof that is in my power.”

“Then promise me not to marry Mr. Hardie.”

“My dear uncle, Mr. Hardie has never asked me.”

“But he will.”

“What right have I to say so?  What right have I to constitute Mr. Hardie my admirer?  I would not for all the world put it into any gentleman’s power to say, ’Why say “no,” Miss Fountain, before I have asked you to say “yes"?’ Oh!”

And, with this, Lucy put her face into her hands, but they were not large enough to hide the deep blush that suffused her whole face at the bare idea of being betrayed into an indelicacy of this sort.

“How could he say that? how could he know?” said Mr. Fountain, pettishly.

“Uncle, I cannot, I dare not.  You and my aunt hate one another; so you might be tempted to tell her, and she would be sure to tell him.  Besides, I cannot; my very instinct revolts from it.  It would not be modest.  I love you, uncle.  Let me know your wishes, and have some faith in my affection, but pray do not press me further.  Oh, what have I done, to be spoken of with so many gentlemen!”