at a particular hour,
up to which he was her servant.

"Fiddlededee!" the vivacious lady sang. "Now I've got you, I mean to
keep you. Oh! I've heard all about you. This ridiculous indifference
that your father makes so much of! Why, of course, you wanted to see
the world! A strong healthy young man shut up all his life in a lonely
house--no friends, no society, no amusements but those of rustics! Of
course you were indifferent! Your intelligence and superior mind alone
saved you from becoming a dissipated country boor.--Where are the
others?"

Clare and Adrian came up at a quick pace.

"My damozel dropped something," Adrian explained.

Her mother asked what it was.

"Nothing, mama," said Clare, demurely, and they proceeded as before.

Overborne by his aunt's fluency of tongue, and occupied in acute
calculation of the flying minutes, Richard let many pass before he edged
in a word for Ralph. When he did, Mrs. Doria stopped him immediately.

"I must tell you, child, that I refuse to listen to such rank idiotcy."

"It's nothing of the kind, aunt."

"The fancy of a boy."

"He's not a boy. He's half-a-year older than I am!"

"You silly child! The moment you fall in love, you all think yourselves
men."

"On my honour, aunt! I believe he loves her thoroughly."

"Did he tell you so, child?"

"Men don't speak openly of those things," said Richard.

"Boys do," said Mrs. Doria.

"But listen to me in earnest, aunt. I want you to be kind to Ralph.
Don't drive him to--You maybe sorry for it. Let him--do let him write to
her, and see her. I believe women are as cruel as men in these things."

"I never encourage absurdity, Richard."

"What objection have you to Ralph, aunt?"

"Oh, they're both good families. It's not that absurdity, Richard.
It will be to his credit to remember that his first fancy wasn't a
dairymaid." Mrs. Doria pitched her accent tellingly. It did not touch
her nephew.

"Don't you want Clare ever to marry?" He put the last point of reason to
her.

Mrs. Doria laughed. "I hope so, child. We must find some comfortable old
gentleman for her."

"What infamy!" mutters Richard.

"And I engage Ralph shall be ready to dance at her wedding, or eat a
hearty breakfast--We don't dance at weddings now, and very properly.
It's a horrid sad business, not to be treated with levity.--Is that
his regiment?" she said, as they passed out of the hussar-sentinelled
gardens. "Tush, tush, child! Master Ralph wi