From  the  first  he  had  been  rather  **  taken  "  with
the  look  of  the  tall,  slight  young  fellow  with  the
dark  little  curls  and  the  quiet,  questioning  smile  ;
and  he  came  almost  near  envying  him  possession
of  the  soft  and  delicate  creature  who  clung  to  him
as  to  a  hero  about  to  undertake  an  incredible
exploit  on  her  behalf.  Perhaps  he  was  1 — if  he
expected  the  house  to  last  him  an  average  lifetime
and  then  pass  on  to  his  heirs.
Casswade 's  ideal  female,  if  he  had  one,  inclined


LOW    SOCIETY  6i

decidedly  to  the  big,  buxom  order  ;  but  on  special
occasions  he  could  overlook  another  man's  taste  in
that  direction.  In  the  abstract,  he  would  have
dismissed  the  future  Mrs.  Hungerford  as  a  fluffy
little  chicken,  hardly  out  of  the  egg,  and  not  old
enough  or  big  enough  to  know  anything  about
marriage.  But,  against  the  background  of  the
tall,  dark,  serious  young  man,  her  elfin  daintiness,
her  wistful  happiness,  her  wide  blue  eyes  in  a  small
oval  face,  gave  a  distinctive  and  romantic  touch
to  the  picture.  Casswade  acutely  calculated  that
she  wouldn't  worry  him  to  death  about  wall-papers
and  ceiling-cracks,  so  long  as  she  could  don  a
matronly  appearance  and  feel  that  it  was  hers —
the  home  that  the  man  had  bought  for  her.
Half  unconsciously  she  looked  round,  her  lips
still  parted,  the  listening  look  in  her  eyes  ;  and
young  Hungerford  looked  round  too.  Casswade
swung  his  glossy  hat,  and  advanced  with  out-
stretched  hand.
"How  do,  Mr.  Hungerford?  How  do,  Mrs.
