A powder magazine with the train laid could not have needed a smaller spark to cause its explosion.

Those few words elevated the young artist at once to the loftiest pinnacle of bliss.
"She has just refused Oleander, and I may stand a chance," he thought.
"I'll ask her, by Jove! after supper." Mr.Ingelow kept his word.

He paid Miss Dane the most marked attention throughout the repast, filled her plate with delicacies and her ears with compliments.

And Mollie was sweet as summer cherries, and took his arm when it was over, and let him lead her into a retired nook where amber curtains shut them in; and there, pale and agitated, the poor fellow said his say and waited for his sentence.
Mollie's wicked heart smote her.

She liked this handsome young artist more than she was aware of, and the first twinge of remorse for her merciless coquetry filled her mind.
But it was too late to pause in her mischief-making, and the fun ahead was too tempting.
"Speak, Miss Dane," Mr.Ingelow implored: "for pity's sake, don't say you have led me on only to jilt me in cold blood at the last!" "Rather strong language, Mr.Ingelow," said Mollie, coolly pulling to pieces a rose.