Professional matters had shaped themselves to his wishes, and left his mind at peace.

Irene had, in consequence, everything pretty much her own way.

Hartley did not fail to notice a certain sharpness of manner about her, and a certain spiciness of sentiment when the subject of their intermittent talks verged on themes relating to women; but he felt no inclination whatever for argument or opposition, and so her arrows struck a polished shield, and went gracefully and harmlessly aside.
"Shall we go and have a merry laugh with Matthews to-night ?" said Hartley, as they sat at the tea-table.

"I feel just in the humor." "No, I thank you," replied Irene, curtly.

"I don't incline to the laughing mood, just now." "Laughing is contagious," suggested Hartley.
"I shall not take the infection to-night." And she balanced her little head with the perpendicularity of a plumb-line.
"Can't I persuade you ?" He was in a real good-humor, and smiled as he said this.
"No, sir.