my Rick."

It was a pitiful confession for the mistress of all this splendour; and
now that the anxiety and excitement were to some extent over she looked
pale and old and tired.

"I'm very glad you liked Rick," she said, "very glad. It isn't like
those who would care for him for his money." She nodded her head in the
direction of the chattering group. "I should be so glad to see my Rick
married to a nice, innocent, good girl. I haven't been so happy this
many a day as I've been since I've seen you and him making friends."

I could not bear to tell her that I did not like her son and that
nothing on earth would induce me to make friends with him, so I sat
silent and said nothing; and I think it did her good to talk, for she
prattled on in a gentle, monotonous way about her son's childhood and
school-days and of the kindnesses he had done her. Apparently she
thought him the finest, handsomest, best person in the world, and
apparently his father thought likewise, which was a much stranger thing.
She seemed to have no reticence at all, or I had unlocked her heart.

"When Rick is at home," she said, "Dawson is good-tempered, and is often
even kind to me. And Rick knows that, and has promised me not to go away
any more. I should be so glad if he would marry and settle down, and so
would Dawson. There's nothing Dawson wouldn't give him if he'd marry
according to his wishes."

At this moment some of the gentlemen arrived, and the group of ladies
broke up to admit the black coats. One man passed by and came on towards
the end of the room where we were. It was Richard Dawson.

I saw Lady Ardaragh suddenly move her skirt so as to leave a vacant
place on the sofa upon which she was sitting; but he disregarded the
invitation, if such it were, and came on towards us.

I saw him stoop to kiss his mother and the lighting up of the plain,
elderly face, and it came into my mind that however intolerable he was
to me, there must be another side of him for her.

For the remainder of that evening he never left my side, and no one
could dislodge him, to my great vexation. I thought he was doing it only
to annoy me. But I kept close to his mother, so that there was less
chance of his making me conspicuous, none at all of his whispering and
languishing as he had done at the dinner-table.

I could not see how my grandmother was taking it, since she sat at the
same side of the room as I did; but I was glad that Mr. Dawson kept my
grand