"She's ripping, too," concluded Freddie, with a certain buoyancy of spirit.

"If she doesn't love Medcroft, she at least ought to love someone else instead.
It's customary.

I wonder--" Here he reflected deeply for an instant, his spirits floating high.

Then he turned abruptly and made his way to the Tirol.
It came to pass, in the course of the evening, that Mr.Ulstervelt, supremely confident from the effect of past achievements, drew the unsuspecting Mrs.Medcroft into a secluded tete-a-tete.

It is not of record that he was ever a diplomatic wooer; one in haste never is.
Suffice it to say, Mrs.Medcroft, her cheeks flaming, her eyes wide with indignation, suddenly left the side of the indomitable Freddie and joined the party at the other end of the _entresol_, but not before she had said to him with unmistakable clearness and decision,-- "You little wretch! How dare you say such silly things to me!" The rebuff decisive! And he had only meant to be comforting, not to say self-sacrificing.