Mabel.  That  will  do.  mamma,  suppose  you  keep  quite
still  and  read  your  paper  till  the  carriage  is  round.  I'm
feeling  a  little  aggressive  this  evening.
^IRS.  Buckley  Weston.  You  alwavs  were  an  odd  child,
Mill).
Sir  Harry.  That  is  her  chief  charm.  Bless  you,  my
sweetheart.  (a)id  he,  as  lie  jx/s.sfs,  takes  her  Jiancl  and
2)resses  it  lovingly.  SJie  sighs,  goes  to  the  fire  and  sits
down)  I  heard  the  bell,  it's  the  Graemes,  1  expect.  I'll
go  down,  we'd  better  have  our  chat  in  the  study.  We
shan't  be  long,  dear.     I'll  bring  'em  up  before  they  go.
31  ABEL.     Very  well !

Sir  Harry.     By  the  way,  where's  mother  ?

3Irs.  Buckley  Weston.  (iritJi-  an  aggressive  sniff)
She  retired  to  lier  room  immediately  after  dinner  to  write
letters — she  said  good-night  to  me  as  she  felt  they  would
occupy  her  until  I  went  to  the  Gordons'.
Sir  Harry,  {apologetically)  I'm  sure  she  didn't  mean
it  that  way.
jMrs.  Buckley  W^eston.     (blandly)    What  way?

Mabel,  {aside  to  Sir  Harry)  Be  quiet — mamma
never  sees  your  motlier's  meanings.
Sir  Harry.  Heavens !  I  nearly  explained  'em !  (lie
iiglifly  touches  his  irife's  cheek  and  goes  cloion  to  the  study)

Mrs.  Buckley  W^eston.  I  find  Harry's  mother  a  very
iliflRcult  old  Avoman  to  entertain.  I  supi^ose  at  her  age  the
intellect  does  become  dim.
Mabel.  I  daresay  !  {a  long  pause.  jMabel  bends  over
herifork.  looking  up  noiv  and  then  in  thought  at  the  fire)

Mrs.  Buckley  W'ESTOX.  I  see  great  changes  in  people.
(pause)  You  are  not  nearly  as  chatty  and  light-hearted
us  you  used  to  be.
rilABEL.     Really  !

3Irs.  Buckley  Weston.  I  suppose  that's  always  the
Avay  wlien  one  has  everything  one  wants.
