ntered the family a month before Gore at heart--well, she was
leaving it in a like condition.

Whilst she was making her few little preparations, Mrs. Chichester was
reviewing the whole situation in her room. She was compelled to admit,
however outraged her feelings may have been the previous night, that
should Peg carry out her intention to desert them, the family would be
in a parlous condition. The income from Mr. Kingsnorth's will was
indeed the one note of relief to the distressed household. She had
passed a wretched night, and after a cup of tea in her room, and a good
long period of reflection, she decided to seek the aid of the head of
the family--her son.

She found him in the morning-room lying full length on a lounge reading
the "Post." He jumped up directly he saw her, led her over to the
lounge, kissed her, put her down gently beside him and asked her how
she was feeling.

"I didn't close my eyes all night," answered the unhappy old lady.

"Isn't that rotten?" said Alaric sympathetically. "I was a bit plungy
myself--first one side and then the other." And he yawned and stretched
languidly. "Hate to have one's night's rest broken," he concluded. Mrs.
Chichester looked at him sadly.

"What is to be done?" she asked, despair in every note.

"We must get in forty winks during the day some time," he replied,
encouragingly.

"No, no, Alaric. I mean about Margaret?"

"Oh! The imp? Nothin' that I can see. She's got it into her stubborn
little head that she's had enough of us, and that's the end of it!"

"And the end of our income," summed up Mrs. Chichester, pathetically.

"Well, you were a bit rough on her, mater. Now, I come to think of it
we've all been a bit rough on her--except ME. I've made her laugh once
or twice--poor little soul. After all, suppose she did want to dance?
What's the use of fussing? LET her, I say. LET her. Better SHE should
dance and STAY, than for US to starve if she GOES."

"Don't reproach me, dear. I did my duty. How could I consent to her
going? A girl of her age!"

"Girl! Why, they're grown women with families in America at her age."

"Thank God they're not in England."

"They will be some day, mater. They're kickin' over the traces more and
more every day. Watch 'em in a year or two, I say, watch 'em. One time
women kept on the pavement. Now they're out in the middle of the
road--and in thousands! Mark me! What ho!"

"They are not women!" ejaculated Mrs. Chichester s