use:

"Come, my dear, lunch is on the table; are you not coming in?"

"I had rather wait for Maurice, please; do sit down without me," she
answers, with the irritation of a spoilt child. Lady Kynaston closes the
window. "Oh, these lovers!" she groans to herself, somewhat impatiently,
as she sits down alone to the well-furnished luncheon-table; but she
bears it pretty composedly because Helen has her grandfather's money, and
is to bring her son wealth as well as love, and Lady Kynaston is not at
all above being glad of it. One can stand little faults of manner and
temper from a daughter-in-law, who is an heiress, which one would be
justly indignant at were she a pauper.

A sound of wheels turning in at the lodge-gates--it is Maurice's hansom.

Helen hurries forward to meet him in the hall; Captain Kynaston is
handing a lady out of the hansom; Helen peers at her suspiciously.

"I am bringing you ladies a friend to lunch," says Maurice, gaily, and
Mrs. Romer's face clears when she sees that it is Beatrice Miller.

"Oh, Beatrice, it is you! I am delighted to see you! Go in to the
dining-room, you will find Lady Kynaston. Maurice," drawing him back a
minute, "how late you are again! What have you been doing?"

"I waited whilst Miss Miller put her bonnet on."

"Why, where did you meet her?"

"I met her at her mother's, where I went to call. Have you any
objection?" He looked at her almost defiantly as he answered her
questions; it was intolerable to him that she should put him through
such a catechism.

"You can't have been there all the morning," she continued, suspiciously;
unable or unwilling, perhaps, to notice his rising displeasure. "Where
did you go first?"

Maurice bit his lip, but controlled himself with an effort.

"My dear child," he said, lightly, "one can't sell out of the army, or
prepare for the holy estate of matrimony, without a certain amount of
business on one's hands. Suppose now we go in to lunch." She stepped
aside and let him pass her into the dining-room.

"He is shuffling again," she said to herself, angrily; "that was no
answer to my question. Is it possible that he sees _her_? But no, what
folly; if she is at Sutton, how can he get at her?"

"Oh, Helen," cried out Beatrice to her from the table as she entered,
"you and Lady Kynaston are positively out of the world this season. You
know none of the gossip."

"I go nowhere, of course, now; my grandfather's death is so recent. I
have