military man
should, but in a case like this he would expect to be called upon; it
would have shown a great lack of breeding on Mr. Frazer's part had he
suggested anything different."

Violet agreed, though she did not seem exactly convinced, and Julia
created a diversion by saying--

"Twelve is rather an awkward time. A quarter of an hour with father,
five minutes--no, ten--with you, half an hour with Violet, altogether
brings it very near lunch time."

"Mr. Frazer will, of course, lunch with us to-morrow," Mrs. Polkington
said, as if stray guests to lunch were the most usual and convenient
thing in the world. The Polkingtons kept up a good many of their
farces in private life; most of them found it easier, as well as
pleasanter, to do so. "The cold beef," Mrs. Polkington said, mentally
reviewing her larder, "can be hashed; that and a small boned loin of
mutton will do, he would naturally expect to be treated as one of the
family; fortunately the apple tart has not been cut--with a little
cream--"

"I thought we were to have the tart to-night," Julia interrupted,
thinking of Johnny Gillat, who was coming to spend the evening with
her father.

Mrs. Polkington thought of him too, but she did not change her mind on
this account. "We can't, then," she said, and turned to the discussion
of other matters. She had carried these as far as the probable date of
marriage, and the preferment the young man might easily expect, when
the little servant came up to announce Mr. Gillat.

Mrs. Polkington did not express impatience. "Is he in the
dining-room?" she said. "I hope you lighted the heater, Mary."

Mary said she had, and Mrs. Polkington returned to her interesting
subject, only pausing to remark, "How tiresome that your father is not
back yet!"

For a little none of the three girls moved, then Julia rose.

"Are you going down to Mr. Gillat?" her mother asked. "There really is
no necessity; he is perfectly happy with the paper."

Perhaps he was, though the paper was a half-penny morning one; he did
not make extravagant demands on fate, or anything else; nevertheless,
Julia went down.

The Polkingtons' house was furnished on an ascending scale, which
found its zenith in the drawing-room, but deteriorated again very
rapidly afterwards. The dining-room, being midway between the kitchen
and the drawing-room, was only a middling-looking apartment. They did
not often have a fire there; a paraffin lamp stove stood in the