mentedmented," Mr. Stanwood, who was playing with his knife and fork, here interrupted.
"Fortunately, he never really knew," replied Cyn, while Nattie looked somewhat gloomily at her goblet of coffee, in memory of the romance that collapsed. "To continue this ower true tale!—Thus far all was mysterious, enchanting, romantic. But now comes the dark sequel. One day 'C' called—bodily."
Mr. Stanwood started and looked quickly up at Nattie, who, without observing his glance, murmured contemptuously,
"Odious creature!"
At this he turned with a perplexed look again to Cyn, who proceeded.
"Yes, an odious creature he proved to be. Only think, he had red hair, and dreadful teeth, smelt of musk, wore cheap jewelry, and, in short, was decidedly vulgar!"
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Stanwood, staring at her as if he thought she was bereft of her senses. "What!" and he dropped his knife and fork, and pushed his chair back violently, to the alarm of the Duchess, who was immediately behind.
Cyn appeared astonished at his vehemence; but Nattie, too occupied with thoughts of this newly-revived grievance to observe it, repeated,
