flirtation. I have found you perfectly charming, horribly dangerous. I confess it."
Elsie turned her soft face towards him, and their eyes met. He could see by the faint light of a growing moon that she blushed.
"Yes, horribly dangerous," he repeated.
"What is the other experience?" she asked.
"A row by moonlight. I should prefer it with you alone, but I suppose the proprieties forbid. Shall it be Lady Horace or Miss Pryde who chaperons us?"
"I will go for a row with you the next time you come in the evening. I am glad you warned me that it is part of the game."
They had reached the ferry steps. Miss Minnie Pryde called a fairly musical "O-o-ver." The plash of the oars sounded nearer and nearer as the boat approached. Blake stepped on to the bow, and held out his hand to each of the ladies. One or two others were crossing as well. The stern was filled, and he took his seat in the bows. Several of the passengers were from Fermoy's, and knew Lady Horace and her sister. The talk fell on the evening's debate. Mr. Anderson, one of the young men, praised Hallett's speech.
"I tell you what it is though, Lady Horace," exclaimed another, "that chap Blake beat him into fits. I say, can you tell me who he is? They call him Monte Christo. He chucks half-sovereigns to the railway porters, and rides thoroughbreds fit for a king."
"Oh! hush!" murmured Ina faintly, and turned the conversation with some rapid question . Blake had probably not heard the remark—at least so Elsie imagined. He sat still in the bow, looking like a Monte Christo indeed, only his eyes were tenderer surely, than those of Dumas's hero. Elsie's young bosom fluttered. At last she was in the land of romance. And yet there was a dim terror in the background of her maidenly satisfaction; a terror of unknown forces which might at any moment break from their chain.
When they had got out of the boat and mounted the ferry hill there was a halt. Fermoy's lay in one direction,
