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 charming manners as Sir Richard, but one can hardly compare them." "Hyperion to a Satyr" said Emily.

"What!" Carlotta's eyes opened wide.

"I—I did not mean Sir Richard by Hyperion."

"Emily, I'm afraid you are fickle."

"Perhaps I am."

"But if you liked the Dean"

"I didn't exactly like him. I might have, but you see, I know quite well he despises me."

"How could he?"

Emily remembered the last look he gave her. "Well, I suppose he is more sorry for me than anything. It was so unpleasant, you know—he happened to come into the music-room when that stupid Richard was kissing my hand. I couldn't explain that it really wasn't my fault. I don't suppose I shall ever see him again. I don't care a bit—only—it isn't nice to know that he has got quite a wrong impression of me."

"One of these days," said Carlotta, "your flirting will bring you unhappiness. Sir Richard is not a man who will stand nonsense."

"Don't frighten me," said Emily, who was trembling already. Carlotta's words only confirmed her own fear.

"Do you love him?" said Carlotta.

"I don't know," said Emily. "I suppose I do—in a way. I am afraid of him. He is so determined."

"I wish you had never met him!" said Carlotta, prime instigator of their meetings.

"So do I," said Emily, with a sort of whimper.

"Have you promised to marry him?"