“As you please,” said Bella, “but it doesn’t in the least matter—­you know I’ve a scolding in store for you, Teddy?”

“No, not now,” and he held up his hands pleadingly.

“Yes, but you’ve been most imprudent, and it’s by the very greatest luck in the world that Rowley didn’t see you.  If he had, it would have been anything but pleasant for Nina.”

“Hm!” and Teddy gave his nose a screw.  He was terribly tempted to tell what he looked on as the very best joke in the world—­only—­well—­no—­perhaps better not—­if you once let a thing slip out it often gets spoken of, nobody knows how; and as Rowley had whispered at the door, “Teddy, I say, not a word about having seen me before,” and he had answered “Honour bright, old chap; you may trust me,” he’d keep the matter dark; only there was one to score against Miss Doady Donne for telling him last night at dinner that she was going to play propriety to a friend that day.  He hated a lie without a reason; and as it seemed to him he’d gone quite far enough in that direction, this would serve as a capital peg to hang a quarrel on.

“Shall we say good-night?” said Bella.

“Do you want to get rid of me?”

“N—­no.”

“Oh, I see you do,” and he held out his hand to her.

“Good-night,” she began, trying to hold herself very severely, “and let this little adventure be a lesson to you.  All’s well that ends well, but remember all doesn’t always end so.”

“Quite true,” he said, feigning to have listened penitently.”  By-the-way, would you mind repeating that same little sermon to our friend Rowley?—­it might be of service to him.  What do I mean?—­oh nothing—­only that one good turn deserves another.”