sition that was not without its advantages. I
was not much made for a family man, and both in the way of expense and
in--other ways, it suited me well enough. Nobody could expect me to
marry them or their daughters, don't you see, when they knew I had a
wife alive? So I was allowed my little amusements. You never went in for
that kind of thing, Nell? Don't snap me up. You know I told you I never
was against a little flirtation. It makes a woman more tolerant, in my
opinion, just to know how to amuse herself a little. But Nell was never
one of that kind----"

"I hope not, indeed," said Mrs. Dennistoun, to whom he had turned, with
indignation.

"I don't see where the emphasis comes in. She was one that a man could
be as sure of as of Westminster Abbey. The heart of her husband rests
upon her--isn't that what the fellow in the Bible says, or words to that
effect? Nell was always a kind of a Bible to me. And you may say that
in that case to think of her amusing herself! But you will allow she
always did take everything too much _au grand serieux_. No? to be sure,
you'll allow nothing. But still that was the truth. However, I'll allow
something if you won't. I'm past my first youth. Oh, you, not a bit of
it! You're just as fresh and as pretty, by George! as ever you were.
When I saw you stand up in that court yesterday looking as if--not a
week had passed since I saw you last, by Jove! Nell---- And how you were
hating it, poor old girl, and had come out straining your poor little
conscience, and saying what you didn't want to say--for the sake of a
worthless fellow like me----"

A sob came out of Elinor's breast, and something half inaudible besides,
like a name.

"I can tell you this," he said, turning to Mrs. Dennistoun again, "I
couldn't look at her. I'm an unlikely brute for that sort of thing, but
if I had looked at her I should have cried. I daresay you don't believe
me. Never mind, but it's true."

"I do believe you," said the mother, very low.

"Thank you," he said, with a laugh. "I have always said for a
mother-in-law you were the least difficult to get on with I ever saw. Do
you remember giving me that money to make ducks and drakes of? It was
awfully silly of you. You didn't deserve to be trusted with money to
throw it away like that, but still I have not forgotten it. Well! I came
to thank you for yesterday, Nell. And there are things, you know, that
we must talk over. You never gave up your name. That was