"So  you  would,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Wren.  "And
one  of  these  days  you  will  be  a  countess — if  you  don't
throw  yourself  away  on  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  in  the
meantime."

Mary  was  hard  set  not  to  break  out  in  a  hysterical
laugh.  She  was  in  the  depths  if  ever  soul  was,  yet  the

222


AN  INTERLUDE


sense  of  humor  is  immortal  and  survives  every  torment.
Fate,  however,  had  not  yet  given  the  last  turn  to  the
screw.
At  this  moment  the  neat  parlormaid  came  into  the
room.
"Mr.  Dinneford !"  she  announced.
Jack  stood  a  moment  on  the  threshold  to  gaze  at  the
three  occupants.  He  was  rather  like  a  sailor  who  fears
foul  weather*  and  has  not  the  courage  to  read  the  sky.
"I'm  glad  you've  come,  young  man,"  said  Mrs.  Wren,
getting  up  to  receive  him.  And  she  added  almost  at
once,  for  it  was  never  her  way  to  beat  about  the  bush,
"We  are  giving  her  the  finest  talking  to  she  has  ever  had
in  her  life."

Jack  nearly  groaned.  The  look  of  the  three  of  them
had  told  him  already  that  she  must  have  made  a  fearful
hash  of  things.
By  now  the  Tenderfoot  had  risen  very  high  in  Mrs.
