ngry.'

'My dear,' Emmeline interposed softly, 'that isn't quite a ladylike
expression.'

'No, it isn't. Thank you, Mrs. Mumford. I meant to say he is
horrid--very disagreeable. Then there's something else I want to tell you
about. Cissy Higgins--that's Mr. Higgins's daughter, you know--is
half engaged to a man called Bowling--an awful idiot--'

'I don't think I would use that word, dear.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Mumford. I mean to say he's a regular silly. But
he's in a very good position--a partner in Jannaway Brothers of
Woolwich, though he isn't thirty yet. Well, now, what do you think?
Mr. Bowling doesn't seem to know his own mind, and just lately he's
been paying so much attention to _me_ that Cissy has got quite
frantic about it. This was really and truly the reason why I left
home.'

'I see,' murmured the listener, with a look of genuine interest.

'Yes. They wanted to get me out of the way. There wasn't the
slightest fear that I should try to cut Cissy Higgins out; but it
was getting very awkward for her, I admit. Now that's the kind of
thing that doesn't go on among nice people, isn't it?'

'But what do you mean, Louise, when you say that Miss Higgins and
Mr.--Mr. Bowling are _half_ engaged?'

'Oh, I mean she has refused him once, just for form's sake; but he
knows very well she means to have him. People of your kind don't do
that sort of thing, do they?'

'I hardly know,' Emmeline replied, colouring a little at certain
private reminiscences. 'And am I to understand that you wouldn't on
any account listen to Mr. Bowling?'

Louise laughed.

'Oh, there's no knowing what I might do to spite Cissy. We hate each
other, of course. But I can't fancy myself marrying him, He has a
long nose, and talks through it. And he says "think you" for "thank
you," and he sings--oh, to hear him sing! I can't bear the man.'

The matter of this conversation Emmeline reported to her husband at
night, and they agreed in the hope that neither Mr. Cobb nor Mr.
Bowling would make an appearance at "Runnymede." Mumford opined that
these individuals were "cads." Small wonder, he said, that the girl
wished to enter a new social sphere. His wife, on the other hand,
had a suspicion that Miss Derrick would not be content to see the
last of Mr. Cobb. He, the electrical engineer, or whatever he was,
could hardly be such a ruffian as the girl depicted. His words, 'You
have neither heart nor brains,' seemed to indicate anything but a
coa