charities both in Guildford and in Farnham, and hence, among her callers
there had been at least three magistrates and their flat-footed wives,
as well as a plethoric alderman, and half a dozen insignificant persons
possessing minor titles.

The display of wealth had always been one of Molly Maxwell's games. It
always paid. She knew that to succeed one must spend, and now, with her
recently acquired "fortune," she spent to a very considerable tune.

"I do wish you'd go in the car to Guildford and exchange those library
books, Louise," exclaimed the handsome woman, suddenly looking up from
her paper. "We've got those horrid Brailsfords coming to lunch. I was
bound to ask them back."

"Can't you come, too?" asked the girl.

"No. I expect Mr. Benton this morning."

"I didn't know he was back from Paris. I'm so glad he's coming," replied
the girl. "He'll stay all the afternoon, of course?"

"I hope so. Go at once and get back as soon as you can, dear. Choose me
some nice new books, won't you?"

Louise Lambert, Benton's adopted daughter, turned from the leaded
window. In the strong morning light she looked extremely charming, but
upon her countenance there was a deep, thoughtful expression, as though
she were entirely preoccupied.

"I've been thinking of Hugh Henfrey," the woman remarked suddenly. "I
wonder why he never writes to you?" she added, watching the girl's face.

Louise's cheeks reddened slightly, as she replied with affected
carelessness:

"If he doesn't care to write, I shall trouble no longer."

"He's still abroad, is he not? The last I heard of him was that he was
at Monte Carlo with that Ranscomb girl."

Mention of Dorise Ranscomb caused the girl's cheeks to colour more
deeply.

"Yes," she said, "I heard that also."

"You don't seem to care very much, Louise," remarked the woman. "And
yet, he's such an awfully nice young fellow."

"You've said that dozens of times before," was Louise's abrupt reply.

"And I mean it. You could do a lot worse than to marry him, remember,
though he is a bit hard-up nowadays. But things with him will right
themselves before long."

"Why do you suggest that?" asked the girl resentfully.

"Well--because, my dear, I know that you are very fond of him," the
woman laughed. "Now, you can't deny it--can you?"

The girl, who had travelled so widely ever since she had left school,
drew a deep breath and, turning her head, gazed blankly out of the
window again.

Wh