raction; and the next day she had received a long
letter, full of references to his colonel, explaining how entirely
against his will and desire he had been forced to accept the invitation
to go and shoot at the Lawlers'. Alice listened quietly; as if she
doubted whether Captain Hibbert would have died of consumption or
heartache if Olive had acted otherwise, and then advised her sister
quietly; and, convinced that her duty was to tell her mother everything,
she waited for an occasion to speak. Mr. Barton was passing down the
passage to his studio, Olive was racing upstairs to Barnes, Mrs. Barton
had her hand on the drawing-room door; and she looked round surprised
when she saw that her daughter was following her.

'I want to speak to you, mamma.'

'Come in, dear.'

Alice shut the door behind her.

'How bare and untidy the room looks at this season of the year; really
you and Olive ought to go into the conservatory and see if you can't get
some geraniums.'

'Yes, mamma, I will presently; but it was about Olive that I wanted to
speak,' said Alice, in a strained and anxious way.

'What a bore that girl is with her serious face,' thought Mrs. Barton;
but she laughed coaxingly, and said:

'And what has my grave-faced daughter to say--the learned keeper of the
family's wisdom?'

Even more than Olive's--for they were less sincere--Mrs. Barton's
trivialities jarred, and Alice's ideas had already begun to slip from
her, and feeling keenly the inadequacy of her words, she said:

'Well, mamma, I wanted to ask you if Olive is going to marry Captain
Hibbert?'

It was now for Mrs. Barton to look embarrassed.

'Well, really, I don't know; nothing is arranged--I never thought about
the matter. What could have made you think she was going to marry
Captain Hibbert? In my opinion they aren't at all suited to each other.
Why do you ask me?'

'Because I have heard you speak of Lord Kilcarney as a man you would
like Olive to marry, and, if this be so, I thought I had better tell you
about Captain Hibbert. I think she is very much in love with him.'

'Oh! nonsense; it is only to kill time. A girl must amuse herself
somehow.'

It was on Alice's lips to ask her mother if she thought such conduct
quite right, but, checking herself, she said:

'I am afraid people are talking about it, and that surely is not
desirable.'

'But why do you come telling me these stories?' she said.

'Why, mamma, because I thought it right to do