.

"Yes, you mock me, too. Of course it's dreadful. Horrible. What will
everybody say?"

"No worse than you have said, I'll be bound," put in the doctor.

"Yes, take her part. What care you for the family name?"

"I have a right to speak for the family name," said the doctor firmly.
"It was mine before it was yours. And I sometimes think, if we lived
under more liberal laws, it might be mine after it had ceased to be
yours. . . . I cannot see that the family name has been compromised in
the slightest degree. This is Irene's first adventure. It will pass
away. And even if it does not--he is a manly boy."

Mrs. Hardy surveyed her husband hopelessly, then turned to Irene.
"Have you made any promises?"

"Only that I wouldn't make any promises until he had his chance. That
seemed fair."

"I suppose you are receiving letters from him?"

"No."

"None at all?"

"None at all."

"Why doesn't he write?"

For the first time Irene's eyes fell, and the colour mounted richer in
her cheeks. She had to confess now, not for herself, but for him.

"He can't write," she said.

"Merciful Heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Hardy, collapsing into a chair.
"Andrew, bring me a stimulant."

The outcome was that Mrs. Hardy insisted upon Irene embarking at once
upon a finishing course. When this was completed, as the girl had
shown a sense for form and colour, she encouraged her into a special
art course. Afterwards they travelled together for a year in Europe.
Then, home again, Irene pursued her art, and her mother surrounded her
with the social attractions which Dr. Hardy's comfortable income and
professional standing made possible. Her purpose was obvious, and but
thinly disguised. She hoped that her daughter would outlive her
youthful infatuation, and would at length, in a more suitable match,
give her heart to one of the numerous eligibles of her circle.

To promote this end Mrs. Hardy spared no pains. Young Carlton, son of
a banker, and one of the leading men of his set, seemed a particularly
appropriate match. Mrs. Hardy opened her home to him, and Carlton,
whatever his motives, was not slow to grasp the situation. For years
Irene had not spoken of Dave Elden, and the mother had grown to hope
that the old attachment had died down and would presently be quite
forgotten in a new and more becoming passion. The fact is that Irene
at that time would have been quite incapable of stating her relation
toward Elden and