o
late for any one to come; also, since there was no light but the fire,
deficiencies were not noticeable. She felt secure of interruption, and
stood with one foot on the fender, looking earnestly into the fire.

That day had been an important one to the Polkingtons; Violet, the
eldest of the sisters, had that afternoon accepted an offer of
marriage from the Reverend Richard Frazer. The young man had not left
the house an hour, and Mrs. Polkington was not yet returned from some
afternoon engagement more than half, but already the matter had been
in part discussed by the family. Julia, standing by the drawing-room
fire, was in a position to review at least some points of the case
dispassionately. Violet was two and twenty, tall, and of a fine
presence, like her mother, but handsomer than the elder woman could
ever have been. She had undoubted abilities, principally of a social
order, but not a penny apiece to her dower. She had this afternoon
accepted Richard Frazer, though he was only a curate--an aristocratic
one certainly, with a small private income, and an uncle lately made
bishop of one of the minor sees. Violet was fond of him; she was too
nice a girl to accept a man she was not fond of, though too well
brought up to become fond of one who was impossible. The engagement,
though it probably did not fulfil all Mrs. Polkington's ambitions, was
in Julia's opinion a good thing for several reasons.

There was a swish and rustle of silk by the door--Mrs. Polkington did
not wear silk skirts, only a silk flounce somewhere, but she got more
creak and rustle out of it than the average woman does out of two
skirts. An imposing woman she was, with an eye that had once been
described as "eagle," though, for that, it was a little inquiring and
eager now, by reason of the look-out she had been obliged to keep for
a good part of her life. She entered the room now, followed by her
eldest and youngest daughters, Violet and Cherie.

"At twelve to-morrow?" she was saying as she came in. "Is that when he
is coming to see your father?"

Violet said it was; then added, in a tone of some dissatisfaction, "I
suppose he must see father about it? We couldn't arrange something?"

"Certainly not," Mrs. Polkington replied with decision; "it is not for
me to give or refuse consent to your marriage. Of course, Mr. Frazer
knows your father does not have good health, or trouble himself to mix
much in society here--it is not likely that an old