nt to
go for."

CHAPTER XXV

MORE ADVENTURER

Victoria had not, of course, confided in Beatrice Chillingham what had
occurred in the garden, although that lady had exhibited the liveliest
interest, and had had her suspicions. After Mr. Crewe's departure Mr.
Rangely, the tall young Englishman, had renewed his attentions
assiduously, although during the interval in the garden he had found Miss
Chillingham a person of discernment.

"She's not going to marry that chap, is she, Miss Chillingham?" he had
asked.

"No," said Beatrice; "you have my word for it, she isn't."

As she was leaving, Mrs. Pomfret had taken Victoria's hand and drawn her
aside, and looked into her face with a meaning smile.

"My dear!" she exclaimed, "he particularly asked that you be invited."

"Who?" said Victoria.

"Humphrey. He stipulated that you should be here."

"Then I'm very much obliged to him," said Victoria, "for I've enjoyed
myself immensely. I like your Englishman so much."

"Do you?" said Mrs. Pomfret, searching Victoria's face, while her own
brightened. "He's heir to one of the really good titles, and he has an
income of his own. I couldn't put him up here, in this tiny box, because
I have Mrs. Fronde. We are going to take him to the convention--and if
you'd care to go, Victoria--?"

Victoria laughed.

"It isn't as serious as that," she said. "And I'm afraid I can't go to
the convention--I have some things to do in the neighbourhood."

Mrs. Pomfret looked wise.

"He's a most attractive man, with the best prospects. It would be a
splendid match for you, Victoria."

"Mrs. Pomfret," replied Victoria, wavering between amusement and a desire
to be serious, "I haven't the slightest intention of making what you call
a 'match.'" And there was in her words a ring of truth not to be
mistaken.

Mrs. Pomfret kissed her.

"One never can tell what may happen," she said. "Think of him, Victoria.
And your dear mother--perhaps you will know some day what the
responsibility is of seeing a daughter well placed in life."

Victoria coloured, and withdrew her hand.

"I fear that time is a long way off, Mrs. Pomfret," she replied.

"I think so much of Victoria," Mrs. Pomfret declared a moment later to
her guest; "she's like my own daughter. But at times she's so hopelessly
unconventional. Why, I believe Rangely's actually going home with her."

"He asked her to drop him at the Inn," said Mrs. Fronde. "He's head over
heels in