ther American
places."

"I've been there--all over, but I never saw you. I can't make it out."

Miss Archer just hesitated. "It was because there had been some
disagreement between your mother and my father, after my mother's death,
which took place when I was a child. In consequence of it we never
expected to see you."

"Ah, but I don't embrace all my mother's quarrels--heaven forbid!"
the young man cried. "You've lately lost your father?" he went on more
gravely.

"Yes; more than a year ago. After that my aunt was very kind to me; she
came to see me and proposed that I should come with her to Europe."

"I see," said Ralph. "She has adopted you."

"Adopted me?" The girl stared, and her blush came back to her, together
with a momentary look of pain which gave her interlocutor some alarm. He
had underestimated the effect of his words. Lord Warburton, who appeared
constantly desirous of a nearer view of Miss Archer, strolled toward the
two cousins at the moment, and as he did so she rested her wider eyes on
him.

"Oh no; she has not adopted me. I'm not a candidate for adoption."

"I beg a thousand pardons," Ralph murmured. "I meant--I meant--" He
hardly knew what he meant.

"You meant she has taken me up. Yes; she likes to take people up.
She has been very kind to me; but," she added with a certain visible
eagerness of desire to be explicit, "I'm very fond of my liberty."

"Are you talking about Mrs. Touchett?" the old man called out from his
chair. "Come here, my dear, and tell me about her. I'm always thankful
for information."

The girl hesitated again, smiling. "She's really very benevolent,"
she answered; after which she went over to her uncle, whose mirth was
excited by her words.

Lord Warburton was left standing with Ralph Touchett, to whom in a
moment he said: "You wished a while ago to see my idea of an interesting
woman. There it is!"

CHAPTER III

Mrs. Touchett was certainly a person of many oddities, of which her
behaviour on returning to her husband's house after many months was a
noticeable specimen. She had her own way of doing all that she did, and
this is the simplest description of a character which, although by no
means without liberal motions, rarely succeeded in giving an impression
of suavity. Mrs. Touchett might do a great deal of good, but she
never pleased. This way of her own, of which she was so fond, was not
intrinsically offensive--it was just unmistakeably distinguishe