r nap much refreshed, and was disposed to
take a less lugubrious view of things. She was certainly somewhat
depressing at first, and her mother found her implied reproaches
somewhat hard to bear; but she was still too languid and subdued to
speak with her usual decision.

'I suppose that we shall have to make the best of it,' she observed
presently, in a resigned tone of voice. 'It will always be a great
trouble to me--but one must expect trouble in this world, as I said to
Percy just now. I am afraid we have been too happy.'

'Oh, my dear! you must not say such things.'

'It is better to say them than to think them. Percy never minds how much
I complain to him, if I will only not brood over worries by myself. He
says that it is so bad for me.'

'Percival is quite right, my love;' and Mrs. Ross looked anxiously at
her daughter's pale face. 'But you know your one duty is to keep
yourself cheerful. Try and put all this away from your mind, and leave
Audrey to be happy in her own way. Mr. Blake is really a very nice
lovable fellow, and I am quite fond of him already, and so is your
father--and I am sure your father is a good judge of character.'

'Yes, mother dear; and you must not think Percy and I mean to be
tiresome and disagreeable. It is not the young man so much that we
mind--though we shall always think Audrey is lowering herself in
marrying him--but it is that odious Mrs. Blake.'

Then, for the moment, Mrs. Ross felt herself uncomfortable. Mrs. Blake
had called on her that very morning, while Audrey was at Hillside, and
in spite of her mildness and toleration she had been obliged to confess
to herself that Mrs. Blake's manners had not quite pleased her.
Geraldine managed to extract the whole account of the interview, though
Mrs. Ross gave it rather reluctantly.

'And I suppose she was absurdly impulsive, as usual, mother?' she asked,
when Mrs. Ross had finished a somewhat brief narrative.

'Well, yes. She is always rather effusive; people have their own style,
you see.'

'Only Mrs. Blake's is, unfortunately, a very bad style.'

'I daresay you are right, my dear, and I certainly prefer a quieter
manner; and it was not quite good taste lauding your father and me to
the skies for our goodness in allowing the match. Poor woman! I daresay
she was a little excited; only it was a pity to let her feelings carry
her away--still, she was very nice about Audrey.'

'She will be her daughter-in-law, you know.'

T