Twenty-six or seven," he answered. "How well you play those cannons.

"I ought to. I had lessons for years. Is he a native of Medchester?"

Lord Arranmore was blandly puzzled. She finished her stroke and turned
towards him.

"Mr. Brooks, you know. We were talking of him."

"Of course we were," he answered. "I do not think so. He is an orphan.
I met his father in Canada."

"He reminds me of some one," she remarked, in a puzzled tone. "Just now
as I was coming downstairs it was almost startling. He is a
good-looking boy."

"Be careful not to foul," he admonished her. "You should have the
spider-rest."

Lady Caroom made a delicate cannon from an awkward place, and concluded
her break in silence. Then she leaned with her back against the table,
chalking her cue. Her figure was still the figure of a girl she was a
remarkably pretty woman. She laid her slim white fingers upon his
coat-sleeve.

"I wonder," she said, softly, "whether you will ever tell me."

"If you look at me like that," he answered, smiling, "I shall tell
you--a great many things."

Her eyes fell. It was too absurd at her age, but her cheeks were
burning.

"You don't improve a bit," she declared. "You were always too apt with
your tongue."

"I practiced in a good school," he answered.

"Dear me," she sighed. "For elderly people what a lot of rubbish we
talk."

He shivered.

"What a hideous word," he remarked. "You make me feel that my chest is
padded and my hair dyed. If to talk sense is a sign of youth, let us do
it."

"By all means. When are you going to find me a husband for Sybil?"

"Well--is there any hurry?" he asked.

"Lots! We are going to Fernshire next week, and the place is always
full of young men. If you have anything really good in your mind I
don't want to miss it."

He took up his cue and scored an excellent break. She followed suit,
and he broke down at an easy cannon. Then he came over to her side.

"How do you like Mr. Brooks?" he asked, quietly.

"He seems a nice boy," she answered, lightly. He remained silent.
Suddenly she looked up into his face, and clutched the sides of the
table.

"You--you don't mean that?" she murmured, suddenly pale to the lips.

He led her to a chair. The game was over.

"Some day," he whispered, "I will tell you the whole story."

* * * * *

"Even to think of these things," Sybil said, softly, "makes us feel very
selfish."

"No one is ever hopele