s display of
mental weakness altogether to Mr. Barrett's mental force. The
interposition of a fresh agency was undreamt of by the lady.

Meanwhile, it was evident that Mr. Pole was a victim to one of his fevers
of shyness. He would thrum on the table, frowning; and then, as he met
the look of one of the ladies, try to disguise the thought in his head
with a forced laugh. Occasionally, he would turn toward them, as if he
had just caught a lost idea that was peculiarly precious. The ladies
drawing up to attend to the communication, had a most trivial matter
imparted to them, and away he went. Several times he said to them "You
don't make friends, as you ought;" and their repudiation of the charge
made him repeat: "You don't make friends--home friends."

"The house can be as full as we care to have it, papa."

"Yes, acquaintances! All very well, but I mean friends--rich friends."

"We will think of it, papa," said Adela, "when we want money."

"It isn't that," he murmured.

Adela had written to Wilfrid a full account of her interview with her
father. Wilfrid's reply was laconic. "If you cannot stand a week of the
brogue, give up Besworth, by all means." He made no further allusion to
the place. They engaged an opera-box, for the purpose of holding a
consultation with him in town. He wrote evasively, but did not appear,
and the ladies, with Emilia between them, listened to every foot-fall by
the box-door, and were too much preoccupied to marvel that Emilia was
just as inattentive to the music as they were. When the curtain dropped
they noticed her dejection.

"What ails you?" they asked.

"Let us go out of London to-night," she whispered, and it was difficult
to persuade her that she would see Brookfield again.

"Remember," said Adela, "it is you that run away from us, not we from
you."

Soft chidings of this description were the only reproaches for her
naughty conduct. She seemed contrite very still and timid, since that
night of adventure. The ladies were glad to observe it, seeing that it
lent her an air of refinement, and proved her sensible to correction.

At last Mr. Pole broke the silence. He had returned from business,
humming and rubbing his hands, like one newly primed with a suggestion
that was the key of a knotty problem. Observant Adela said: "Have you
seen Wilfrid, papa?"

"Saw him in the morning," Mr. Pole replied carelessly.

Mr. Barrett was at the table.

"By the way, what do you think of o