hould like very much to see this play,' he said, a
little awkwardly. 'Could it be managed?'

'I will try,' said Mabel. 'I am sure Mrs. Featherstone will give me a
card for you if she can. But I warn you, Vincent, it's not a good
play. There's one strong scene in the third act, and the rest is a
long succession of _tete-a-tete_--like a society "Punch and Judy." It
will bore you.'

'I think not,' said Vincent, 'and you won't forget, will you?'

'Of course not,' she replied. 'There is Mrs. Featherstone coming in
now. I will ask her at once.'

But Mrs. Featherstone had an air of suppressed flurry and annoyance
which was discouraging, and Gilda's handsome face was dark and a
little defiant, as she followed her mother into the room.

'Can you get away from all these people for two minutes?' said Mrs.
Featherstone, after the first greetings; 'I've something to tell you.'

Mabel took her through the rooms out upon a balcony overlooking the
garden and screened from the sun by a canvas awning. 'We shall be
quiet here,' she said.

Mrs. Featherstone did not speak for some moments. At last she said:
'Oh, my dear, I don't know how to tell you--I can't talk about it with
ordinary patience yet--only think, our foolish, self-willed Gilda told
us this morning that _that_ Mr. Caffyn had proposed to her and she had
accepted him--after all the offers she has refused--isn't it too
shocking to think of? And she won't listen to a word against him, the
silly child is perfectly infatuated!'

'What does Mr. Featherstone say?' asked Mabel, to whom the news was
scarcely a surprise.

'My dear, he knows very well it is all his fault, and that if he
hadn't taken the young man up in that ridiculous way all this would
never have happened--so, of course, he pretends not to see anything so
very unsuitable about the affair--but he doesn't like it, really. How
can he? Gilda might have married into the peerage--and now she is
going to do this! I'm almost afraid these theatricals have brought it
on.'

Mabel was sincerely sorry. She was fond of Gilda, and thought her far
too good for Harold. 'It may come to nothing after all,' she said, as
the only form of consolation she could think of.

'If I could hope so!' sighed the distressed mother, 'but she is so
headstrong. Still, he's not in a position to marry at present--unless
Robert is insane enough to advance him to one. Would you speak to her?
It would be so sweet of you if you only would!'

But