nce. "I had no idea
I was saying anything to hurt you. The dear old man! Why, I never
resented his abuse. I'd rather he'd abuse me, like a dog, as they
say--though I don't see why anyone should want to abuse a dog--if it
made you happier."

Certainly, all Nelly's world was very good to her in those days. As for
Robin Drummond, he thought of women with a chivalrous tenderness
somewhat strange considering that the Dowager was his mother. To him
they were something delicate, mysterious, inexplicable. If he had had a
sister he would have adored her. Not having one, he lavished on Nelly
the feeling he would have given a sister; and hitherto he had been
content with the ardour of his feelings. What could a man wish for
sweeter and prettier beside his hearth than little Nelly? He had fallen
in love with that plan of his mother's for him and Nell with lazy
contentment. He liked Nelly's society, and it did not occur to him that
he would be just as well pleased with her daily companionship if he
could have it without the tie between them becoming more than cousinly.

CHAPTER XIV

LOVERS' PARTING

It might have been better for Nelly if her father had told her of those
tentative advances to Captain Langrishe, for then her pride might have
come to her aid. As it was, she had nothing to go upon but those looks
of his, and his manner to her when they had met at the houses of
friends. For they had met, and that was something the General did not
know. More, Nelly had engineered, with the cleverness of a girl in love,
an acquaintance with Captain Langrishe's sister, a Mrs. Rooke, who lived
in one of the Bayswater squares. Mrs. Rooke was a vivacious little dark
woman, with a cheek like a peach's rosy side. She was perfectly happy in
her own married life, and she had the happily-married woman's desire to
bring lovers together. She had taken a prodigious fancy to Nelly. While
Captain Langrishe yet remained in England that house in the Bayswater
square had an overwhelming attraction for Nelly.

She had gone there first under the Dowager's wing. Cyprian Rooke, K.C.,
belonged to an unexceptionable family, and even the proud Dowager could
find no fault with Nelly's friendship for his wife.

In those days poor Nelly used to feel a perfect monster of deceit. For,
first of all, she was deceiving her dear old father. The name of Rooke
signified nothing one way or the other to him. Then there was the
Dowager, who had proved the most p