“Ah!  Philip, don’t play your jokes on me! you yourself told me it half an hour ago, and gave me the purse with your own hand.”

“Rose—­try to recollect yourself.  This morning I saw you at mass, and we agreed to meet here to-night, but since that time I have not seen you for an instant.”

“No, except half an hour ago, when I saw you at Steinman’s door.  But what is that bundle under your arm? why are you without a hat this cold night?  Philip!  Philip! be careful.  All that gold may turn your brain.  You’ve been in some tavern, Philip, and have drunk more than you should.  But tell me, what is in the bundle?  Why—­here’s a woman’s silk gown.—­Philip, Philip, where have you been?”

“Certainly not with you half an hour ago; you want to play tricks on me, I fancy; where have you got that money, I should like to know?”

“Answer me first, Philip, where you got that woman’s gown.  Where have you been, sir?”

They were both impatient for explanations, both a little jealous—­ and finally began to quarrel.

XII.

But as this was a lovers’ quarrel, it ended as lovers’ quarrels invariably do.  When Rose took out her white pocket-handkerchief, put it to her beautiful eyes, and turned away her head as the sighs burst forth from her breast, this sole argument proved instantly that she was in the right, and Philip decidedly in the wrong.  He confessed he was to blame for everything, and told her that he had been at a masked ball, and that his bundle was not a silk gown, but a man’s mantle and a hat and feathers.  And now he had to undergo a rigid examination.  Every maiden knows that a masked ball is a dangerous maze for unprotected hearts.  It is like plunging into a whelming sea of dangers, and you will be drowned if you are not a good swimmer.  Rose did not consider Philip the best swimmer in the world—­it is difficult to say why.  He denied having danced, but when she asked him, he could not deny having talked with some feminine masks.  He related the whole story to her, yet would constantly add:  “The ladies were of high rank, and they took me for another.”  Rose doubted him a little, but she suppressed her resentment until he said they took him for Prince Julian.  Then she shook her little head, and still more when she heard that Prince Julian was transformed into a watchman while Philip was at the ball.  But he smothered her doubts by saying that in a few minutes the Prince would appear at St. Gregory’s Church and exchange his watch-coat for the mask.

Rose, in return, related all her adventure; but when she came to the incident of the kiss—­

“Hold there!” cried Philip; “I didn’t kiss you, nor, I am sure, did you kiss me in return.”

“I am sure ’twas intended for you, then,” replied Rose, whilst her lover rubbed his hair down, for fear it should stand on end.

“If ’twas not you,” continued Rose, anxiously, “I will believe all that you have been telling me.”