Stiles.
"I can't help being good-looking," said the latter, with a smirk.
"Your good looks wouldn't hurt anybody," said Mr. Burton, in a grating
voice; "it's the admiral business that fetches her. It's turned 'er
head."
Mr. Stiles smiled. "She'll say 'snap' to my 'snip' any time," he
remarked. "And remember, George, there'll always be a knife and fork
laid for you when you like to come."
"I dessay," retorted Mr. Burton, with a dreadful sneer. "Only as it
happens I'm going to tell 'er the truth about you first thing to-morrow
morning. If I can't have 'er you sha'n't."
"That'll spoil your chance, too," said Mr. Stiles. "She'd never forgive
you for fooling her like that. It seems a pity neither of us should get
her."
"You're a sarpent," exclaimed Mr. Burton, savagely--"a sarpent that I've
warmed in my bosom and----"
"There's no call to be indelicate, George," said Mr. Stiles, reprovingly,
as he paused at the door of the house. "Let's sit down and talk it over
quietly."
Mr. Burton followed him into the room and, taking a chair, waited.
"It's evident she's struck with me," said Mr. Stiles, slowly; "it's also
evident that if you tell her the truth it might spoil my chances.
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