ends from London will be coming
on Sunday. I've asked four people to lunch.'

'How jolly! Of course you'll tell me all about them before then. But
I want to talk about Mr. Cobb. Please, _two_ lumps of sugar. I've
known him for about a year and a half. We seem quite old friends,
and he writes to me; I don't answer the letters, unless there's
something to say. To tell the truth, I don't like him.'

'How can that be if you seem old friends?'

'Well, he likes _me_; and there's no harm in that, so long as he
understands. I'm sure _you_ wouldn't like him. He's a rough, coarse
sort of man, and has a dreadful temper.'

'Good gracious! What is his position?'

'Oh, he's connected with the what-d'ye-call-it Electric Lighting
Company. He travels about a good deal. I shouldn't mind that; it
must be rather nice not to have one's husband always at home. Just
now I believe he's in Ireland. I shall be having a letter from him
very soon, no doubt. He doesn't know I've left home, and it'll make
him wild. Yes, that's the kind of man he is. Fearfully jealous, and
such a temper! If I married him, I'm quite sure he would beat me
some day.'

'Oh!' Emmeline exclaimed. 'How can you have anything to do with such
a man?'

'He's very nice sometimes,' answered Louise, thoughtfully.

'But do you really mean that he is "rough and coarse"?'

'Yes, I do. You couldn't call him a gentleman. I've never seen his
people; they live somewhere a long way off; and I shouldn't wonder
if they are a horrid lot. His last letter was quite insulting. He
said--let me see, what was it? Yes--"You have neither heart nor
brains, and I shall do my best not to waste another thought on you?"
What do you think of that?'

'It seems very extraordinary, my dear. How can he write to you in
that way if you never gave him any encouragement?'

'Well, but I suppose I have done. We've met on the Common now and
then, and--and that kind of thing. I'm afraid you're shocked, Mrs.
Mumford. I know it isn't the way that nice people behave, and I'm
going to give it up.'

'Does your mother know him?'

'Oh, yes! there's no secret about it. Mother rather likes him. Of
course he behaves himself when he's at the house. I've a good mind
to ask him to call here so that you could see him. Yes, I should
like you to sea him. You wouldn't mind?'

'Not if you really wish it, Louise. But--I can't help thinking you
exaggerate his faults.'

'Not a bit. He's a regular brute when he gets a