ow what he's doing. I
suppose one ought to make allowances. But, oh! when I think of it--"

And then Grindley junior's guardian angel must surely have slipped into
the room, for Miss Appleyard, irritated beyond endurance at the
philosophical indifference of the bust of William Shakespeare, turned
away from it, and as she did so, caught sight of herself in the looking-
glass. Miss Appleyard approached the glass a little nearer. A woman's
hair is never quite as it should be. Miss Appleyard, standing before the
glass, began, she knew not why, to find reasons excusing Grindley junior.
After all, was not forgiveness an excellent thing in woman? None of us
are quite perfect. The guardian angel of Grindley junior seized the
opportunity.

That evening Solomon Appleyard sat upright in his chair, feeling
confused. So far as he could understand it, a certain young man, a
grocer's assistant, but not a grocer's assistant--but that, of course,
was not his fault, his father being an old brute--had behaved most
abominably; but not, on reflection, as badly as he might have done, and
had acted on the whole very honourably, taking into consideration the
fact that one supposed he could hardly help it. Helvetia was, of course,
very indignant with him, but on the other hand, did not quite see what
else she could have done, she being not at all sure whether she really
cared for him or whether she didn't; that everything had been quite
proper and would not have happened if she had known it; that everything
was her fault, except most things, which weren't; but that of the two she
blamed herself entirely, seeing that she could not have guessed anything
of the kind. And did he, Solomon Appleyard, think that she ought to be
very angry and never marry anybody else, or was she justified in
overlooking it and engaging herself to the only man she felt she could
ever love?

"You mustn't think, Dad, that I meant to deceive you. I should have told
you at the beginning--you know I would--if it hadn't all happened so
suddenly."

"Let me see," said Solomon Appleyard, "did you tell me his name, or
didn't you?"

"Nathaniel," said Miss Appleyard. "Didn't I mention it?"

"Don't happen to know his surname, do you," inquired her father.

"Grindley," explained Miss Appleyard--"the son of Grindley, the Sauce
man."

Miss Appleyard experienced one of the surprises of her life. Never
before to her recollection had her father thwarted a single wi