oculate people with our own common-sense.
Audrey was always inclined to go her own gait.'

Geraldine blushed; she always did when her husband called her Jerry. Not
that she minded it from him, but if anyone else--one of the boys, for
example--were to hear it, the dignified mistress of the house felt she
would never have got over it. In her unmarried days no one had presumed
to call her anything but Geraldine or Gage, and yet before three months
were over her husband had invented this nickname for her.

'It is no use fretting over it,' he went on in the same equable voice;
'you and Audrey are very different people, my love.'

'Yes; but, Percy dear, it is so trying of Audrey to take up the very
people that mother and I were so anxious to avoid. I declare I am quite
sorry for mother; she said, very truly, how is she to keep an intrusive
person like Mrs. Blake at a distance now Audrey has struck up this
violent friendship with her? She has even taken Michael there, for of
course he would never go of his own accord. I am so vexed about it all;
it has quite spoilt my afternoon.'

'Burnett was on the cricket-field a great part of the afternoon,'
returned Mr. Harcourt. 'I saw him talking to Charrington and Sayers.'

'Then she must have asked him to fetch her,' replied Geraldine, with an
air of decision that evidently amused her husband; 'for Michael told us
of his own accord that he had been having tea at the Cottage. It is
really very foolish and incautious of Audrey, after Edith's hint, too! I
wish you would tell her so, Percival, for she only laughs at my advice.'

'And you think she would listen to me?'--still with the same amused curl
of the lip.

'I think she ought to listen to you, dear--a man of your experience and
knowledge of the world--if you would give her a little of your mind. It
is so absurd for a grown-up person to behave like an impulsive child.
Michael is particular in some things, but he spoils Audrey dreadfully.
He and father encourage her. It is your duty, Percival, to act a
brother's part by her, and guide her for her own good.'

Geraldine was evidently in earnest, and Mr. Harcourt forbore to smile as
he answered her:

'But if she refused to be guided by me, my dear?'

'Oh, I hope better things of Audrey,' replied Geraldine, in such a
solemn voice that her husband laughed outright, though he drew down her
face to his the next minute and kissed it.

'You are a good girl to believe in your husban