ll agitation.'

Audrey did not dare laugh; her mother was far too much in earnest.

'You must go yourself, Audrey,' she repeated; 'and I hope you will be
very, very careful.'

'Don't you think it would be better to write, mother? I am so sure that
Gage will disapprove and say cutting things--and of course it will not
be pleasant. If I were to write her a sisterly little note, just telling
her the news, and saying I would go to her to-morrow?'

And, after a good deal of consideration, Mrs. Ross was brought to own
that this plan would be the best.

Mrs. Ross was so oppressed by the fear of Geraldine's disapproval that
she could hardly give her attention to Audrey; and yet her motherly
heart was stirred to its foundations. Audrey pretended to be hurt at
last.

'Oh, do not let us talk any more about Gage!' she said impatiently; 'we
must give her time to come round. I want you to think about me and
Cyril. "Cyril"--is it not a nice name? And you must be very fond of him,
and treat him like your own son. He is to be a second Michael.'

'Dear me, Audrey! I wonder what Michael will say; he can never have
guessed anything before he went away.'

'I don't know, mother. Michael is very sharp, you know. It struck me
once or twice that he was watching Cyril; but he liked him--he always
liked him;' and here Audrey's voice was full of gladness. Michael's
approval was necessary to her happiness: whoever else might choose to
cavil at her choice, it must not be Michael--dear old Michael!

'I wish he would come back,' she said softly; for she felt a strange
sort of longing to see his kind face again. She must write to him; she
must tell him everything, just as though he were her brother. 'Mother,'
interrupting herself, 'I want to tell you something very pretty that
Cyril said yesterday. I was talking of you and father, and he said I
must not be hurt, but he had fallen in love with you first. He thinks
you the sweetest woman he has ever seen.'

'Dear fellow!' murmured Mrs. Ross; for the little compliment pleased
her.

With all her loyalty to Geraldine's husband, there were times when he
was a little formidable to her. Perhaps, in her secret heart, she felt
herself too young to be the mother-in-law of a man of forty; and, in
spite of Mr. Harcourt's real liking and respect for his wife's mother,
he had never been guided by her. It had not been with him, as with
younger men, to say, 'Your mother thinks so-and-so should be done.'
I