But she did disapprove. However, she looks very well
when she disapproves.

THE HOUSE OPPOSITE

We were talking over the sad case of young Algy Groom; I was explaining
to Mrs. Hilary exactly what had happened.

"His father gave him," said I, "a hundred pounds, to keep him for three
months in Paris while he learnt French."

"And very liberal too," said Mrs. Hilary.

"It depends where you dine," said I. "However, that question did not
arise, for Algy went to the Grand Prix the day after he arrived--"

"A horse race?" asked Mrs. Hilary with great contempt.

"Certainly the competitors are horses," I rejoined. "And there he, most
unfortunately, lost the whole sum, without learning any French to speak
of."

"How disgusting!" exclaimed Mrs. Hilary, and little Miss Phyllis gasped
in horror.

"Oh, well," said Hilary, with much bravery (as it struck me), "his
father's very well off."

"That doesn't make it a bit better, declared his wife.

"There's no mortal sin in a little betting, my dear. Boys will be
boys--"

"And even that," I interposed, "wouldn't matter if we could only prevent
girls from being girls."

Mrs. Hilary, taking no notice whatever of me, pronounced sentence. "He
grossly deceived his father," she said, and took up her embroidery.

"Most of us have grossly deceived our parents before now," said I. "We
should all have to confess to something of the sort."

"I hope you're speaking for your own sex," observed Mrs. Hilary.

"Not more than yours," said I. "You used to meet Hilary on the pier when
your father wasn't there--you told me so."

"Father had authorized my acquaintance with Hilary."

"I hate quibbles," said I.

There was a pause. Mrs. Hilary stitched; Hilary observed that the day
was fine.

"Now," I pursued carelessly, "even Miss Phyllis here has been known to
deceive her parents."

"Oh, let the poor child alone, anyhow," said Mrs. Hilary.

"Haven't you?" said I to Miss Phyllis.

I expected an indignant denial. So did Mrs. Hilary, for she remarked
with a sympathetic air:

"Never mind his folly, Phyllis dear."

"Haven't you, Miss Phyllis?" said I.

Miss Phyllis grew very red. Fearing that I was causing her pain, I was
about to observe on the prospects of a Dissolution when a shy smile
spread over Miss Phyllis's face.

"Yes, once," said she with a timid glance at Mrs. Hilary, who
immediately laid down her embroidery.

"Out with it," I cried, triumphantly. "Come along,