"Coquetry is one of the graces which Nature bestows upon these bewitching creatures.

That little conscious look, which stirred this weak heart so tumultuously, is no doubt common to her when she knows herself beloved and admired, and has no meaning that can flatter my foolish hopes." This is how I had reasoned with myself again and again during the dreary interval in which Miss Halliday and I had been separated.

But, O, what a hardy perennial blossom hope must be! The tender buds were not to be crushed by the pelting hailstones of hard common sense.

They had survived all my philosophical reflections, and burst into sudden flower to-day at sight of Charlotte's face.

She loved me, and she was delighted to see me.