hat both might be improved and then give up the job. She's got
charm--there's no doubt of that. I believe even if she were plain she'd
be almost as attractive. Why, I've seen her when she was very nearly
plain sometimes, and she hasn't been a whit less fascinating than when
she's looking her prettiest. It's the infinite variety and all that, you
know. Her soul does it, I suppose."

"Yes, she must have charm," replied Mrs. Gay, ignoring what he had said
about "soul" because she felt a vague dislike to hearing a word applied
indiscriminately to others which had become, as it were, associated with
herself. "I can't analyze it, however, for she hasn't a single really
perfect feature except her eyes."

"But such eyes! In the sunlight they are nearer the colour of a
humming-birds wing than anything I know of."

"I suppose they are rather unusual, but, after all a fine pair of eyes
can't make exactly a--well, a lady, Jonathan."

"The deuce!" he ejaculated, and then added quickly, "What has she done
now, mother?"

One of Mrs. Gay's first principles of diplomacy was that an unpleasant
fact treated as non-existent, was deprived in a measure of its power
for evil. By the application of this principle, she had extinguished her
brother-in-law's passion for Janet Merryweather, and she hoped that it
would prove equally effective in blighting her son's incipient fancy for
Molly. She looked upon Jonathan's infatuation as a mere sinister shadow
as yet, but she was shrewd enough to suspect that the shadow would be
converted into substance at the first hint of her recognition that
it was impending. Indirect influence alone remained to her, and she
surmised that her ultimate triumph would depend upon the perfection of
her indirectness. When it came to the game of strategy, Jonathan, being
of an open nature, was no match for his mother. He was inclined
by temperament to accept things at their face value--particularly
women--and not to worry about them unless they interfered with his
appetite. When he lost his desire for his meals, then he began, somewhat
to his surprise, to consider them seriously.

"Of course I feel just as you do about it," remarked Mrs. Gay, after a
weighty silence. "I'm fond of her and I see her good points--but there's
something about her--I suppose it's the strain of Merryweather blood,
or the fact of her being born in such unfortunate circumstances--" Her
manner grew severer. "But--whatever the cause, it shows i