‘Cross, my love?’

‘I am sure they’re very kind to me,’ said Dora, ‘and I am very happy — ’

‘Well!

But my dearest life!’ said I, ‘you might be very happy, and yet be treated rationally.’

Dora gave me a reproachful look — the prettiest look! — and then began to sob, saying, if I didn’t like her, why had I ever wanted so much to be engaged to her? And why didn’t I go away, now, if I couldn’t bear her?

What could I do, but kiss away her tears, and tell her how I doted on her, after that!

‘I am sure I am very affectionate,’ said Dora; ‘you oughtn’t