Tableau!

"Barbara!" says Mr. Monkton faintly, after a long pause. "Is there any
brandy in the house?"

But Barbara is looking horrified.

"It is shocking," she says. "Why should he take such a twisted view of
it. He has always been a kind-hearted child; and now----"

"Well. He has been kind-hearted to the lions," says Mr. Monkton. "No one
can deny that."

"Oh! if you persist in encouraging him. Freddy!" says his wife with
tears in her eyes.

"Believe me, Barbara," breaks in Joyce at this moment, "it is a mistake
to be soft-hearted in this world." There is something bright but
uncomfortable in the steady gaze she directs at her sister. "One should
be hard, if one means to live comfortably."

"Will you take me soon again to see pictures?" asks Tommy, running to
Joyce and scrambling upon the seat she is occupying. "Do!"

"But if you dislike them so much."

"Only some. And other places may be funnier. What day will you take me?"

"I don't think I shall again make an arrangement beforehand," says
Joyce, rising, and placing Tommy on the ground very gently. "Some
morning just before we start, you and I, we will make our plans."

She does not look at Barbara this time, but her tone is eloquent.

Barbara looks at her, however, with eyes full of reproach.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

"Love is its own great loveliness always,
And takes new beauties from the touch of time;
Its bough owns no December and no May,
But bears its blossoms into winter's clime."

"I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without
children."

"Oh, Felix--is it you!" says Mrs. Monkton in a dismayed tone. Her hansom
is at the door and, arrayed in her best bib and tucker, she is hurrying
through the hall when Dysart, who has just come, presents himself. He
was just coming in, in fact, as she was going out.

"Don't mind me," says he; "there is always to-morrow."

"Oh, yes,--but----"

"And Miss Kavanagh?"

"It is to recover her I am going out this afternoon." It is the next
day, so soon after her rupture with Joyce, that she is afraid to even
hint at further complications. A strong desire to let him know that he
might wait and try his fortune once again on her return with Joyce is
oppressing her mind, but she puts it firmly behind her, or thinks she
does. "She is lunching at the Brabazons'," she says; "old friends of
ours. I promised to lunch there, too, so as to be able to bring Joyce
hom