displeased you," Ivy addressed her, when the door
was closed. "I ought to have asked your permission."

"It doesn't matter, dear--not a bit. But I wasn't quite in the humour
for--for that kind of thing. I came here for quietness, as I always do."

"Do forgive me! I thought--to tell the truth, it was my uncle--I had
spoken of you to him, and he said he should so much like to meet you."

"It really doesn't matter; but I look rather like the woman who comes
to buy old dresses, don't I?"

Ivy laughed.

"Of course not!"

"And what if I do?" exclaimed the other, seating herself by the fire.
"I don't know that I've any claim to look better than Mrs. Moss. I
suppose she and I are about on a level in understanding and education,
if the truth were told. Your uncle would see that, of course."

"Now, don't--don't!" pleaded Ivy, bending over the chair and stroking
her friend's shoulder. "It's so wrong of you, dear. My father and Uncle
Eustace are both quite capable of judging you rightly."

"What did you tell him about me--your uncle?" asked Serena, pettishly.

"That you were my friend, and that we read together"----

"Oh, of course! What else?"

Ivy faltered.

"I explained who you were."

"That I had a ridiculous name, and was the daughter of silly people!"

"Oh, it _is_ unkind of you!"

"Well, and what else? I insist on knowing, Ivy."

"Indeed, I didn't say one word that you mightn't have heard yourself. I
think you can believe me, dear?"

"To be sure I can. But then no doubt your father told him the rest, or
has done by this time. There's no harm in that. I like people to know
that I am independent. Well, now tell me about _him_. He isn't a great
favourite of yours, is he?"

"No, not a great favourite." Ivy seemed always to weigh her words. "I
don't know him very well. He has always lived in London, and I've never
seen him more than once a year. I'm afraid he doesn't care much about
the things that I prize most, but he is kind and very clever, I
believe. Father always says he might have been a great artist if he had
chosen."

"Then why didn't he choose?"

"I can't say. So many people seem to fall far short of what they might
have been."

"Women do--what else can you expect? But men are free. I suppose he is
rich?"

"No, not rich. He seems to have enough for his needs."

Serena indulged her thoughts.

"I felt I disliked him at first," she said, presently. "But he is
improved. He can talk well, I sh