athy she could express; but it came from her heart.
She no longer regretted her own burst of confidence. The spontaneous
answer that it had evoked had had a magically softening effect upon her.
In all her life no one had ever charmed her thus. She was astonished
herself at the melting of her hardness.

"You've suffered worse than I have," she said, "for I never cared for any
man like that. I was let down badly when I was a girl, and I've never had
any opinion of any of 'em since. My husband's all right, so far as he
goes. But he isn't the sort of man to worship. Precious few of 'em are."

Whereat Isabel laughed, a soft, sad laugh. "That is why worldly position
matters so little," she said. "If by chance the right man really comes,
nothing else counts. He is just everything."

"Maybe you're right," said Mrs. Bathurst, with gloomy acquiescence.
"Anyhow, it isn't for me to say you're wrong."

And this was why when Dinah brought in the tea, she found a wholly new
element in the atmosphere, and missed the customary sharp rebuke from her
mother's lips when she had to go back for the sugar-tongs.

She had been disappointed that her friend Scott had not been of the
party. Isabel's explanation that he had gone home at Eustace's wish to
attend to some business had not removed an odd little hurt sense of
having been defrauded. She had counted upon seeing Scott that day. It was
almost as if he had failed her when she needed him, though why she seemed
to need him she could not have said, nor could he possibly have known
that she would do so.

Sir Eustace was in her father's den. She was sure that they were getting
on very well together from the occasional bursts of laughter with which
their conversation was interspersed. They were not apparently sticking
exclusively to business. And now that Isabel had won her mother, deeply
though she rejoiced over the conquest, she felt a little--a very
little--forlorn. They were all talking about her, but if Scott had been
there he would have talked to her and made her feel at ease. She could
not understand his going, even at his brother's behest. It seemed
incredible that he should not want to see her home.

She sat meekly in the background, thinking of him, while she drank her
tea; and then, just as she finished, there came the sound of voices at
the door, and her father and Sir Eustace came in. They were laughing
still. Evidently the result of the interview was satisfactory to both.
Sir