Aren't they more her children than his, when
she has slaved and sacrificed herself for them? You meant it well, sir,
what you said to the mistress; but I take the liberty of differing from
you, and I would sooner bite my tongue out than speak the word that will
bring them all to shame.'

'Then I must not look to you for help?'

'I am afraid not, sir. I am on my mistress's side.'

'You are an obstinate old woman, Biddy, and I looked for better sense at
your age.'

Nevertheless, he shook her by the hand very kindly, and then she lighted
him downstairs.

Mollie came out of the dining-room and looked at him wistfully.

'Is mamma better now, Captain Burnett?'

'Well, no, I am afraid not: but I think you need not trouble. Biddy will
look after her.'

'Biddy is dreadfully mysterious, and will hardly let any of us speak to
mamma; but I think it is my place, not Biddy's, to wait on her. She has
no right to tell me to go downstairs, and to treat me like a child. I am
fifteen.'

'Yes; indeed, you are growing quite a woman, Mollie.'

And Michael looked very kindly at Audrey's _protegee_. He and Mollie
were great friends.

'Cyril came in some time ago. He had to dress for the party, you know,
and Biddy would not let him go into the drawing-room and interrupt you;
she was mounting guard all the time. Cyril was quite cross at last, and
asked me what on earth was the matter, and why you and mamma were having
a private interview; but of course I could not tell him.'

'I suppose not, my dear.'

'He says he shall ask mamma to-morrow, and that he shall bring Miss Ross
to see her, because he is sure she is ill. Will you come in and see
Kester, Captain Burnett?--he is busy with his Greek.'

But Michael declined; it was late, and he must hurry home and dress for
dinner.

He had forgotten all about the Charringtons' dinner-party and dance, and
he was a little startled, as he entered the hall, to see Audrey standing
before the fire talking to Cyril. Both of them were in evening dress.

Audrey looked very pretty; she wore a white silk dress. He had seen her
in it once before, and he had thought then how wonderfully well it
became her; and the sparkling cross rested against her soft throat.
Cyril's roses, with their pale pinky tint, gave her just the colour that
was needed, and her eyes were very bright; and perhaps her lover's
praise had brought that lovely glow to her face.

'You will be late, Michael; the dressing-bell so