tures. Mrs. Damerel knew well enough the significance
of that particular look; it meant the irritation of his self-will, the
summoning of forces to resist something he disliked.

'There has been no difference between you, I hope?'

'No--oh no,' Horace replied, wriggling under her look.

At that moment a servant opened the door.

'Two ladies have called in a carriage, sir, and would like to see you.'

'I'll go down. Excuse me for a moment, aunt.'

'Who are they, Horace?' asked Mrs. Damerel, rising with an ill-concealed
look of dismay.

'Some friends I have made here. I'll just go and speak to them.'

He hurried away. No sooner was he gone than Mrs. Damerel sprang to the
window, where she could look down upon the carriage standing before the
house; it was open, and in it sat two ladies, one middle-aged, the other
much younger. To her vexation she could not, from this distance, clearly
discern their faces; but on glancing rapidly round the room, she saw
Horace's little binocular. An instant brought it into focus upon the
carriage, and what she then saw gave Mrs. Damerel such a shock, that an
exclamation escaped her. Still she gazed through the glasses, and only
turned away when the vehicle drove on.

Horace came up flushed and panting.

'It's all right. They wanted me to go for a drive, but I explained--'

He saw the binocular in Mrs. Damerel's hand, and at the same moment read
detection on her countenance. She gazed at him; he answered the look
with lowering challenge.

'Horace, that was Fanny French.'

'So it was, aunt.'

'What is going on between you?'

The young man took a seat on the edge of the table, and swung his leg.
He looked suddenly obstinate.

'We met by accident--here--the other day.'

'How can I believe that, Horace?' said Mrs. Damerel, in a voice of soft
reproach. And she drew near to him. 'Be truthful with me, dear. Do tell
me the truth!--Is she anything to you?'

'I have told you the truth, aunt. She came here, as I have done, for her
health. I haven't seen her for two years.'

'And you don't wish to renew acquaintance with her,--I'm sure you
don't.'

He looked away, and said nothing.

'My dear, do you know her character?'

'What about her?'

The tone was startling, but Mrs. Damerel kept firm, though agitated.

'She has led the most disgraceful life. I heard about her half a year
after she ran away, but of course I wouldn't tell you such painful
things.'

Horace reddened w