the floor. "I'll write the check, mother, and I'll
promise to do my best hereafter about Anne and old Tempy. And what's more,
I'll not punch Percy's nose, so you needn't be afraid he'll turn it up at
us."

The pen scratched vigorously across the check. His mother was regarding
him with a queer expression in her eyes. She had not moved while he was
expressing himself so feelingly about Anne. Was it possible that after all
there was something fine in this boy of hers? His simple, genuine outburst
was a revelation to her.

"I trust this may be the last time that you will come to me for money in
this way, George," she said levelly. "You must be made to realise that I
cannot afford such luxuries as these. You have made it impossible for me
to refuse you this time. I cannot allow a son of mine to be in debt to a
Wintermill. You must not borrow money. You--"

He looked up, grinning. "There you go again with that middle-class word,
mother. But I'll forgive you this once on condition that you never use it
again. People in our walk of life never _borrow_ anything but trouble, you
know. We don't borrow money. We arrange for it occasionally, but God
forbid that we should ever become so common as to borrow it. There you
are, filled in and ready for your autograph--payable to Percy Reginald Van
Alstone Wintermill. I put his whole name in so that he'd have to go to the
exertion of signing it all on the back. He hates work worse than poison.
I'm glad you didn't accept him, Anne. It would be awful to have to look up
to a man who is so insignificant that you'd have to look down upon him at
the same time."

Mrs. Tresslyn signed the check. "I will have Rawson post it to him at
once," she said. "There goes one of your gowns, Anne,--five hundred and
sixty-five dollars."

"I shan't miss it, mother dear," said Anne cheerfully. She had linked an
arm through one of George's, much to the surprise and embarrassment of the
tall young man.

"Bully girl," said he awkwardly. "Just for that I'll kiss the bride next
month, and wish her the best of luck. I--I certainly hope you'll have
better luck than I had."

"There's still loads of luck ahead for you, George," said she, a little
wistfully. "All you've got to do is to keep a sharp lookout and you'll
find it some day--sooner than I, I'm sure. You'll find the right girl
and--zip! Everything will be rosy, old boy!"

He smiled wryly. "I've lost the right girl, Anne."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs.