t, and watched Miss
Caterham's wise and just restraint of a climbing geranium. Miss
Caterham, in the intervals of her work, watched George, with a glance
which indicated rapidly increasing displeasure. The fire kindled, and at
last she spake with her tongue.

"I am extremely sorry, George, but I simply cannot stand it any longer.
Will you kindly either light that cigarette or throw it away."

"I was just about to light it, Jane. This weather, especially after
luncheon, invests one's actions with a certain amount of deliberation."

"If you showed as much deliberation about your words, George, as you do
about your actions, it would be better for everybody."

George's astonishment was such that he let out the match which he had
just lit. "Oh, really, Jane, I wasn't conscious of having said anything
particular."

"It's not what you said now, it's what you said at luncheon. If you
don't strike another match and light that cigarette, I shall have to
go."

George followed his instructions obediently. "At luncheon?" he said
meditatively. "Don't seem to remember having said anything particular at
luncheon either. While I'm here, I'm always careful to avoid politics."

"So long as you follow blindly the foes of your own country, that is
just as well. The treacherous and unpatriotic duffers, with whom you
have chosen to ally yourself----"

"Yes," said George. "You're perfectly right. It's much better to avoid
politics. But what did I say at luncheon?"

"Ruth was there."

"She was. Very charming she looked. I'm proud to be her uncle."

"I have the charge of her education, and the formation of her moral
character, and I considered what you said to be most unwise. Praise is
nearly always bad, and it is specially injudicious to praise a child's
beauty to her face."

"Oh, that's it, is it? Well, Ruth ain't exactly a child, you know. She's
eighteen."

"Only just eighteen, and I'm not sure that that does not make it worse.
I've always been careful to guard against anything of the kind. I do not
wish my niece to grow up vain and self-conscious."

"Oh, she's all right," said George feebly.

"Far from it. She is wilful, and there is nothing I hate so much as
wilfulness. I must have my own way, and I cannot be opposed in my views
by you or by Ruth. Also, it is quite untrue that she is beautiful. She
is nice-looking enough, but her mouth is certainly a little too large,
and she has permitted the sun to ruin her complexion--