102 Lily and Water-Lily.

He drew back aghast. Was this Salome—the
Salome he loved? The taunt lashed him to the
quick, but it cut below his pride; it cut to the heart,
and self-love was stunned by the deeper wound.
“Then it is that you mind?” murmured he “I
am judged by these blustering, swaggering heroes and
hussies of Aigremont, and by ¢keir standard I must
fall. Oh, Salome, I had not believed it!”

“You may believe what you please,” said she, more
faintly ; for she was ashamed—ashamed because she
knew that she was unjust; because she knew that
Michael was not really a coward, though he might
not be a hero of physical prowess. “I am not such
a poor creature as to be led in my feelings by what
others think ; I can think for myself. My father was
a chamois-hunter, and my brother died in the chase,
and the lad who cannot follow where a poor little
heifer strays is no lad for me! Nay, and though my
father look not for such feats in his cowherd, he will
at least seek one who does his duty.”

“Oh, Salome, such gibes come not from your own