A lover, from his very nature, must be decidedly unhappy or supremely
blest, and it is scarcely to be expected that perfect felicity can
reign in a heart whose pretty mistress is spending her smiles on
another man. Allan did not believe that Rose really cared for Mr.
Galton--he had seen too many proofs to the contrary--but he did
believe that she was giving that objectionable gentleman every reason
to think that she did care. With how many men did she pursue this
course of action, and was he to believe her guilty of careless
coquetry? Upon how many admirers may a rose breathe perfume and still
keep its innocent heart sweet for its lover? These were the questions
that rankled in his mind, while Eva set the checkers in place.
"Perhaps I can keep you from getting a king," she said exultantly.
"If I can only keep my queen," observed the young man absently.
"Why, Mr. Dunlop, there are no queens in this game; it isn't like
chess."
"There! you see how little I know about it," was the regretful reply.
Despite this painful manifestation of ignorance the two combatants
appeared for a while to be very equally matched.
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