a recklessness which made her poor and careful friend wince, before Elizabeth sat down to read aloud to her the last number of the Revue des deux Mondes.
Alaric was at his work; the two girls were alone together till late in the afternoon, when Elizabeth felt a longing for some fresh air, and, putting on her hat and seal-skin jacket, went for a quick walk in the Luxembourg Garden. It was nearly dusk; but she was seen to leave the house by one who had decided that he must seize the first opportunity of speaking to the heiress again, definitely and definitively. It might, indeed, be a little premature to expect a positive acceptance of his hand; he did not wish to precipitate matters; still, if she maintained the same tone she had done yesterday, Robert Elton felt it would be useless to waste any more time here.
He followed and overtook her, as she was entering the garden.
"Going for a 'constitutional,' Miss Shaw?" he cried. "Let me join you. May not have another opportunity. If I am recalled, as I fear———"
"What it is to be a political man!" said Elizabeth, gaily. "How I do hug my independence!"
"Don't mean that seriously—eh? Don't mean that you will always hug it?"
"It will require a strong temptation to induce me to resign it."
"What sort of temptation?"
"Love. I know no other."
"Had no idea you were so sentimental."
"I am sensi-mental—common-sensimental. That is
