III

The next two years were much less solitary, passed in more or less
constant gaiety. His confession spurred Winton on to the fortification
of his daughter's position. He would stand no nonsense, would not have
her looked on askance. There is nothing like "style" for carrying the
defences of society--only, it must be the genuine thing. Whether at
Mildenham, or in London under the wing of his sister, there was no
difficulty. Gyp was too pretty, Winton too cool, his quietness too
formidable. She had every advantage. Society only troubles itself to
make front against the visibly weak.

The happiest time of a girl's life is that when all appreciate and covet
her, and she herself is free as air--a queen of hearts, for none of which
she hankers; or, if not the happiest, at all events it is the gayest
time. What did Gyp care whether hearts ached for her--she knew not love
as yet, perhaps would never know the pains of unrequited love.
Intoxicated with life, she led her many admirers a pretty dance, treating
them with a sort of bravura. She did not want them to be unhappy, but
she simply could not take them seriously. Never was any girl so
heart-free. She was a queer mixture in those days, would give up any
pleasure for Winton, and most for Betty or her aunt--her little governess
was gone--but of nobody else did she seem to take account, accepting all
that was laid at her feet as the due of her looks, her dainty frocks, her
music, her good riding and dancing, her talent for amateur theatricals
and mimicry. Winton, whom at least she never failed, watched that
glorious fluttering with quiet pride and satisfaction. He was getting to
those years when a man of action dislikes interruption of the grooves
into which his activity has fallen. He pursued his hunting, racing,
card-playing, and his very stealthy alms and services to lame ducks of
his old regiment, their families, and other unfortunates--happy in
knowing that Gyp was always as glad to be with him as he to be with her.
Hereditary gout, too, had begun to bother him.

The day that she came of age they were up in town, and he summoned her to
the room, in which he now sat by the fire recalling all these things, to
receive an account of his stewardship. He had nursed her greatly
embarrassed inheritance very carefully till it amounted to some twenty
thousand pounds. He had never told her of it--the subject was dangerous,
and, since his own means were ample,