e sure to make her uneasy also.

* * * * *

The next day the young man was punctual to the moment. The old lady left
him alone for a few minutes in the dark, dismal drawing-room. She
thought it would have a salutary effect.

She found him, when she came in, stroking the china bird, and looking at
himself in the mirror above it.

He received her with such charming grace that she felt almost
disconcerted, and as if she ought to apologise.

"You received my letter?" she said, rather abruptly.

"With great pleasure. That is why I am here."

He was still standing, smiling delightfully.

"Sit down," she said, with cold graciousness. "I hope you are not in a
great hurry?"

"All my day belongs to you," he replied with a low bow, taking the seat
she had indicated. He looked at her with soft deference under his long
eyelashes.

She found what she had to say more difficult than she had expected. She
spoke quietly, in a low yet rasping voice, with a sharp dignity.

"I will come straight to the point. To put it plainly, a report has
reached my ears, Mr. de Freyne, which has caused me very great pain and
anxiety--I mean, as a mother. And I wondered whether you----"

"As a mother? Surely, Mrs. Wyburn, nothing against Romer? I'm sure I, as
one of his oldest friends...."

"Against Romer!" She drew herself up stiffly. "Most certainly not!
There's never been a word breathed otherwise than in dear Romer's favour
since he was a little boy."

Harry appeared much relieved.

"It's a great comfort to hear you say that. It's only what I was going
to assure you."

"Besides, do you suppose for one moment that if I had any fault to find
with my son I should send for you?"

She already had an annoying fancy that he was defeating her, laughing at
her, and turning the tables.

"It seemed certainly rather strange," Harry said.

"No, indeed! When I say I was troubled as a mother, I meant it in a
very different sense. What I'm afraid of is that dear Romer might be
worried if he heard the report to which I refer."

"And that is?..."

She looked at him spitefully, yet with a reluctant admiration.

He was irritatingly good-looking, good-humoured, and at his ease, and
particularly well-dressed, without appearing in the least conscious of
it. She wished immensely that he had been plain, or awkward, or even out
at elbows, or absurdly dandified, or looked _nouveau riche_, or
something! She felt jealous of him