the time. I only felt a little discontented, and mentally changed the subject when there was any probability of my discovering the reason of my dissatisfaction.
The news of our engagement soon spread. Shall I be considered egotistical if I say that the men who had previously—so it seemed to me—looked down upon Arthur Ravener, now appeared anxious to know him, and apologetically anxious, too? They had evidently more respect for Elsie Bouverie's affianced husband, than for Captain Dillington's bosom friend. It was rather inexplicable to me, but I was pleased nevertheless.
Arthur was a constant visitor at our house. He never brought Captain Dillington with him. Indeed he always seemed to be so embarrassed when I asked him to do so, that I at last desisted. It was no desire to know the Captain better that prompted me to invite him to join us. He repelled me as no one either before or since has done. But I knew he was my future husband's boon companion, so was perfectly willing to sink my prejudices. I also thought as there was
