you last night that he had
asked me and I had said yes, and that I am very happy."

"Oh, I know. But that was before Angela, and she said we were to have no
raptures. I want raptures, please."

"Well, I'm afraid you won't get them. I'm too well drilled. You know,
Cicely, I rather envy you being brought up as you were. You're more
natural, somehow, than Angela and I."

"Well, I envy _you_; so we're quits. But never mind about that now.
Trixie, is Angela just the least bit jealous?"

"No, not a bit," said Beatrice loyally. "But you see she's a year older,
and ever so much cleverer, and prettier too."

"She's none of those things except a year older. But she's a dear all
the same, and so are you. I don't wonder at anybody falling in love with
you. Are you very much in love too?"

"Well, Cicely, I don't mind telling you in strict confidence that I am.
But, perhaps, it's in a way you would not sympathise with particularly."

"Tell me in what way, and you'll see."

"Of course George isn't especially good-looking; in fact he isn't
good-looking at all, except for his eyes. I used to think I should never
love anybody unless he was as handsome as--as, well, Dick is, for
instance--that sort of man--you know--smart and well set up, and"--with
a laugh--"rather ignorant."

"Dick isn't ignorant," said Cicely indignantly.

"My dear, compared to George he is a monument of ignorance, a pyramid of
it; so are most men. It was just that; George is so clever, and he's
making such use of his brains too. He is one of the youngest men in
parliament, and is in office already. It was looking up to him as a
pillar of wisdom, and then finding that he looked to me of all people,
to help him on."

"I'm sure you will help him on. I heard some one say in London that many
politicians owed a great deal of their success to their wives."

"I don't mean quite in that way. I don't think George is ambitious,
though I am for him. He wants to get things done. Father says it is
because he is so young. He tells me about everything, and it makes me
grateful--you know, I think when you are very grateful, that is being in
love."

"You dear thing!" said Cicely, squeezing her arm. "Does Uncle Herbert
like him? They are not on the same side in politics, are they?"

"No. But it doesn't seem to matter. It doesn't matter in the least to
me. Of course, there _are_ things. George is a tremendous churchman, you
know, and I have never thought much about reli