not well in so many words
congratulate him on being left without a rival, there were a good many
heartening things that she could and did say. After deprecating any
possible embarrassment on his part by assuring him that she came not
because she liked him, but because when one had a gift it was a duty to
use it, and it was a privilege to turn a gay and too probably heartless
occasion of this kind into a means of doing good, she passed to her
main object with a suddenness which would have seemed to some a little
abrupt.

"And you have not caught one glimpse of a certain young lady yet?"
Nods and becks and a mysterious archness of expression pointed the
question. "My dear Mr Gerrard, she is handsomer than ever--in her own
style, of course; you may take an old woman's word for it."

"But where shall I find the old woman?" inquired Gerrard, in a
desperate attempt to do what was expected of him.

Highly pleased, Mrs Jardine gave him a tap with her fan. "Oh, you
quiet young men are just as naughty as the rest--with your compliments,
indeed! But if I were to repeat to you what a little bird told me, you
would never, never betray me?" Earnest assurances on Gerrard's part.
"Well, then, I hear that Miss Cinnamond is not very happy at home!"

"I am sorry to hear it," said Gerrard mechanically.

Mrs Jardine looked a little nonplussed. "Of course it is very sad,"
she admitted. "But surely it has its brighter side? The fact is, the
General and dear Lady Cinnamond are _everything_ to each other. There
is really no place for the poor girl. I confess she has made her
mother wear caps like other people--makes them for her herself, I
believe--instead of that extraordinary Popish veil--so like a nun's, I
call it--though even she has not been able to get her to do anything to
her hair." Like most of her contemporaries, Mrs Jardine regarded it as
almost indecent to display grey or white hair, and herself wore a
"front" which could hardly be considered an attempt at deception, so
transparently artificial was it.

"You were saying something about caps?" hazarded Gerrard, as Mrs
Jardine remained silent, apparently sunk in contemplation of the
persistent defects of Lady Cinnamond's appearance.

"Oh yes, of course. Dear me, what was it? Oh, I remember. Well, you
see, though it is very good and loving of her to do it"--Gerrard had to
cast his mind back to discover what "it" was--"and must be a great
saving of expense, with t