The Press., 1888-03-22

0Y Ekeia 9aultsY 1tseSFn5 lhcf6diDT6 Ec Slr Adrian, a8 he remembers her sunny smile and gentle manner. But then, ia it not her dearest friend who is speak ing of her-tender-hearted little Dora | Talbot, who seems to think well oi every one, and who murmurs such pretty speeches even about Arthur, who, if the truth be told, is not exactly "dear" in the sight of Sir Adrian.
 You think there is, or was, an en- gagement between Arthur and Miss OelmaineT he begins, with his eyes fixed upon the ground.
 "I think nothing, you silly man, says the widow playfully, until am told it. But I am glad Florence is once more friendly with poor Arthur; he is positively wrapped up in her. Now, has that interesting t1bleGu we so nearly Interrupted given you distaste smaller gallery2"
 "Just as you will"
 Of course"-with girlish laugh-"it would be imprudent to venture again into the one we have just quilted. By this time, doubtless, they are quite re- cOnciled-and-"
 "Yes-yes," interrupts Sir Adrian hastily, trying in vain to blot out the picture she has raised before his eyes of Florence in her lover's arms. What you have just told me has quite taken me by surprise" he goes on nervously. q should never have guessed it from Miss Delmaine>s manner; it quite mis- led me-"
 Well, between you and me-" says Dora, raising herself on tiptoe, as though to whisper in his ear, and 80 coming very close to him, q am afraid 10Oroct ic luf Yes, really; you wouldn't think it, would you? The dear girl has such a sweet ingenious face-Quite the loveli- est face on earth, think, though some pronounce it too cold. But she is very self-contained; and to-day, you see, she has given you an insight into this slight fault in her character"
 "She has indeed" agrees Sir Adrian, with a smothered groan.
 "Welp.- triumphantly - "and yet, here we find her granting him a private audience, when she believed we were all safely out of the way; and in the north gallery too, which, as a rule, is deserted"
 "She didn't know we were thinking of driving to the hillS," says Sir Ad- rian, making a feeble effort to find a flaw in his companion's s statement.
 "Oh, yes, she didI" declares the wid- OW 4RnCly. 1 GOlU n6E u1yS6lIs aDOuL two hours ago, that intended asking you to make party to go there, as I dOte on lovely scenery; and dare say" -coquettishly - "she knew -I mean thought-you would not refuse so small a request of mine. But for poor Lady FitzAlmont's headache we should be there now"
 "It is true," admits Sir Adrian, feel ing that the last straw has descended.
 "And now that I think of it." the widow goes on, even more vivaciOusly, the reason she assigned for not coming with us must have been feigned one. An, slyboots that she isl" laughs Mrs. Talbot merrily. Of course, she wanted the course clear to have an explanation with Arthur. We'll, after all, that was only natural. But she might have trusted me, whom she knows to be her true friend"
 Ill-tempered-capricious-sly! And all these faults are attributed to Flor ence by "her true friend!" A quotation assigned to Marechal Villars when talk ing leave of Louis XIV. occurs to him -"Defend me from my friends" The words return to him consistently; but then he looks down on Dora Talbot, and stares straight into her liquid blue eyes, so apparently guileless and pure, and tells himself that he wrongs her. Yes, it is pity Florence has not put greater faith in this kind little woman, a pity for all of them, as then many heart-breaks might have been prevent ed