[_Sitting, facing her._] But, for yourself, my dear Sidonia--well, I have the consolation of believing that directly you turn your back upon Fauncey Court much of the wofulness of your position will evaporate.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Harry!

QUEX.

Forgive me--you admit that you delight in colouring even the most ordinary events of life rather highly. If I may put it more roughly, you are disposed, my dear Sidonia--at times, perhaps, a little inopportunely--to burn a good deal of red fire. [_Leaning forward._] At any rate, I beg an especial favour of you to-night.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

What--?

QUEX.

[_Distinctly._] No red fire.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Chilled._] Is this the something you had to ask of me? [_He bows in a.s.sent._] I cannot remember ever having seen you in this mood.

QUEX.

This is our first actual _tete-a-tete_ since my engagement to Miss Eden.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Oh, I understand.

QUEX.

And now shall I tell you where the wofulness and the pathos most conspicuously display themselves on this occasion?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

If you wish to.

QUEX.

In the confounded treachery of my being here at all.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

Treachery?

QUEX.

You know I am under a bond of good behaviour to my old aunt and to the Edens.

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_With a slight shrug of the shoulders._] Really?

QUEX.

Yes. [_Clenching his teeth._] And this is how I observe it. After all my resolutions, this--this is how I observe it.

[_He rises and paces up and down the room._

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Fretfully._] I am bound to remark that your present behaviour appears quite unimpeachable.

QUEX.

Unimpeachable! here--alone--in your company!

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Covering her eyes with her hand._] Oh, cruel, cruel!

QUEX.

[_Pausing._] Cruel--?

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_With heaving bosom._] But there! if you deny me the possession of real feeling, why should you hesitate to rain blows on me?

QUEX.

[_Softening, coming to her._] My dear Sidonia, I don't--I don't mean to--

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Rising, and grasping his hands._] Oh, Harry!

QUEX.

Tsch! please! [_He releases himself and she sinks back upon the settee, her eyes closed. He regards her uncomfortably for a moment; then, with some hesitation, he produces from his coat-tail pocket a small box covered with a pretty brocade, with which he toys uneasily._] You expressed a wish to leave here on Friday with a sensation of despair at your heart, Sidonia. If your feeling about our parting is really a deep one, heaven knows I have no desire to make it more acute--

d.u.c.h.eSS.

[_Partly opening her eyes._] What is in that box, Harry?

QUEX.

That is just what I was about to--to--[_Lifting the lid and closing it._] These are the little souvenirs which have pa.s.sed from you to me at odd times.