much ether some of these times would send her off quite comfortably, you know."
"Don't speak in that way. Uncle says imaginary troubles are often as hard to bear as real ones," said Rose, turning round displeased.
Till now she had not fairly looked at him; for recollections of the morning made her a little shy. His attitude and appearance surprised her as much as his words, and the quick change in her face seemed to remind him of his manners. Getting up, he hastily took off his hat, and stood looking at her with a curiously fixed yet absent look, as he said in the same rapid, abrupt way, as if, when once started, he found it hard to stop,—
"I beg pardon—only joking—very bad taste I know, and won't do it again. The heat of the room makes me a little dizzy, and I think I got a chill coming out. It is cold—I am frozen, I dare say—though I drove like the devil."
"Not that bad horse of yours, I hope? I know it is dangerous, so late and alone," said Rose, shrinking behind the big chair, as Charlie approached the fire, carefully avoiding a footstool in his way.
"Danger is exciting—that's why I like it. No man ever called me a coward—let him try it once. I never give in—and that horse shall not conquer me. I'll break his neck, if he breaks my spirit doing it. No—I don't mean that—never mind—it's all right," and Charlie laughed in a way that troubled her, because there was no mirth in it.
