one asks you your intentions it will
be the Dowager--not little Miss Gareth-Lawless' mother. I never
pretended to chaperon Robin. She might run about all over London without
my asking any questions. I am afraid I am not much of a mother. I am not
in the least like yours."

"Like mine?" He wondered why his mother should be so suddenly dragged
in.

She laughed with a bright air of being much entertained.

"Do you remember how Mrs. Muir whisked you away from London the day
after she found out that you were playing with my vagabond of a
Robin--unknowing of your danger? There was a mother for you! It nearly
killed my little pariah."

She rose and held out her hand.

"I have not really had my three minutes, but 'I must not detain you any
longer,' as Royal Highnesses say. I must go."

"Why?" he ejaculated with involuntary impatience.

"Because Eileen Erwyn is standing with her back markedly turned towards
us, pretending to talk. I know the expression of her little ears and she
has just laid them back close to her head, which means business. Why do
you all at once look _quite_ like Lord Coombe?" Perhaps he did look a
trifle like his relative. He had risen to his feet.

"I was not aware that I was whisked away from London," he said.

"I was," with pretty impudence. "You were bundled back to Scotland
almost before daylight. Lord Coombe knew about it. We laughed immensely
together. It was a great joke because Robin fainted and fell into the
mud, or something of the sort, when you didn't turn up the next morning.
She almost pined away and died of grief, tiresome little thing! I told
you Eileen was preparing to assault. Here she is! Hordes of girls will
now advance upon you. So glad to have had you even for a few treasured
seconds. _Good_ afternoon."

CHAPTER IX

It was not a long time before he had left the house, but it seemed long
and as if he had thought a great many rather incoherent things before he
had reached the street and presently parted from his gay acquaintance
and was on his way to his mother's house where she was spending a week,
having come down from Scotland as she did often.

He walked all the way home because he wanted movement. He also wanted
time to think things over because the intensity of his own mood troubled
him. It was new for him to think much about himself, but lately he had
found himself sometimes wondering at, as well as shaken by, emotional
mental phases through which he passe