said no more, and when he had handed them into the
carriage, broke out into an entirely new subject, and was very gay and
amusing all the way home.

The two ladies did not say a syllable to each other on this subject,
neither had they said anything to each other about Dick, generally,
except that he was very nice, that it was kind of him to take so much
trouble, and so forth. Whether experienced mothers do discuss with their
daughters what So-and-so meant, or whether he meant anything, as Dick
supposed, is a question I am not prepared to enter into. But Mrs.
Warrender had said nothing to Chatty on the subject, and did not now:
though it cannot be said that she did not ponder it much in her heart.

CHAPTER XXXII.

The ladies were in town three weeks, which brought them from June into
July, when London began to grow hot and dusty, and the season to approach
its close. They were just about to leave town, though whether to
continue their dissipations by going to the seaside, or to return to
Highcombe and put their future residence in order, they had not as yet
made up their minds. Cavendish gave his vote for the seaside. "Of course
you mean to consult me, and give great weight to my opinion," he said.
"What I advise is the sea, and I will tell you why: I am obliged to go
to Portsmouth about some business. If you were at the Isle of Wight,
say, or Southsea----"

"That would be very pleasant: but we must not allow ourselves to be
tempted, not even by your company," said Mrs. Warrender, who began to
fear there might be enough of this. "We are going home to set our house
in order, and to see if, perhaps, Theo has need of us. And then the
Thynnes are coming home."

"Is it Miss Warrender who has developed into the Thynnes?"

"Indeed it is; that is how everybody inquires for her now. I have got
quite used to the name. That is one of the drawbacks of marrying one's
daughters, which I was telling you of. One's Minnie becomes in a moment
the Eustace Thynnes!"

They were not a smiling party that evening, and Mrs. Warrender's little
pleasantry fell flat. It flew, perhaps, across the mind of all, that
Chatty might be changed, in a similar way, into the Cavendishes. Dick
grew hot and cold when the suggestion flashed through him. Then it
was that he recollected how guilty he had been, and how little his
reflections had served him. He who had determined to call but once,
to go with them once to the play, had carried out hi