play, perhaps, and the mouse had no chance from the first,
but--Leo did not sigh when once more alone, and her wild spirits all
that evening rather displeased everybody.

CHAPTER IX.

"I'D LIKE TO HAVE THINGS ON A SOUNDER BASIS."

In coquetry as in other matters, the old saying about the natural and
the acquired taste holds good. Leonore, having once tasted blood, was
not to be kept from it; exasperation and despair were thrown to the
winds in the triumph of her first victory, and the ease with which she
had brought Valentine Purcell to book turned her head. Its consequence
was immediate.

"That's the jolliest little widow I have seen for ages," pronounced Mr.
George Augustus Butts, after seeing the Boldero ladies to their carriage
at the close of a prolonged call at his uncle's house. "It's all right,
Aunt Laura. If she's on, I am. Mrs. Stubbs may become Mrs. Butts--why
the very names seem to melt into each other, ha--ha--ha!"

"Really, George!" But George's aunt, who was very little older than
himself, laughed sympathetically. It was she who had summoned him to
the spot; she who had instructed him in the why and wherefore of the
visit; and had the two been alone, she would not even have exclaimed,
"Really, George!"

But Lady Butts had a daughter, and Gwendoline was listening with the
curious ears of thirteen.

"Gwenny will think you mean that," continued her ladyship, with a
warning intonation. "She takes your little jokes _au serieux_, you
know."

"Jokes?" But he perceived his mentor was in earnest, and mentally
confounded Gwenny for a nuisance. What business had that long-legged,
staring, pigtailed brat in her mother's drawing-room?

She had as a fact been brought in to make a third to match the three
visitors; but having fulfilled her end, and escorted Sybil Boldero in
one direction while Leonore was piloted by her cousin in another, round
the gardens--(Sue and her hostess meanwhile sitting in state
within)--Gwen's mission was over, and the point was to get rid of her.

It is not so easy, however, to get rid of a spoilt child. Gwen admired
George Butts very much indeed. She hung about him whenever he came to
the house, believed in him whenever he spoke, and had secret ideas of
marrying him as soon as she should be grown up. She was now bursting
with jealousy and curiosity, and meant to hold her ground by hook or by
crook.

"Hadn't you ever met Leonore before, Cousin George?"

The elders exch