I know her." "No, thank you," said John, stiffly.

In his heart, he felt an absurd anger at Carryl for the easy, assured way in which he spoke of the sacred creature who seemed to him something too divine to be lightly talked of.

And then he saw, Carryl marching up to her with his air of easy assurance.

He saw the bewitching smile come over that fair, flowery face; he saw Carryl, with unabashed familiarity, take her fan out of her hand, look at it as if it were a mere common, earthly fan, toss it about, and pretend to fan himself with it.
"I didn't know he was such a puppy!" said John to himself, as he stood in a sort of angry bashfulness, envying the man that was so familiar with that loveliness.
[Illustration: "I didn't know he was such a puppy."] Ah! John, John! You wouldn't, for the world, have told to man or woman what a fool you were at that moment.
"What a fool I am!" was his mental commentary: "just as if it was any thing to me." And he turned, and walked to the other end of the veranda.
"I think you've hooked another fish, Lillie," said Belle Trevors in the ear of the little divinity.
"Who... ?" "Why! that Seymour there, at the end of the veranda.

He is looking at you, do you know?
He is rich, very rich, and of an old family.