s
entrance as if it had been a veil. "We have let in a little light at
all events," he said, "that will always be something to the good. Now,
mother, let me have some lunch; for I cannot stay above an hour or so.
I have to see Longstaffe. There has been a great deal to do."

"Mr. Longstaffe, I am sure, will not give you any trouble that he can
help."

"He is giving me a great deal of trouble," said the young man, with
lowering brows. Then he cleared up again with an effort. "You have not
told me anything about your doings in town."

"Oh, we did a great deal in town." Here Mrs. Warrender paused for a
moment, feeling that neither did the auditor care to hear, nor the
person concerned in those doings care to have them told. Between these
two, her words were arrested. Chatty's head was more than ever bent over
her muslin, and Theo had walked to the window, and was looking out with
the air of a man whose thoughts were miles away. No one said anything
more for a full minute, when he suddenly came back, so to speak, and
said, with a sort of smile:--

"So you were very gay?" as if in the meantime she had been pouring forth
an account of many gaieties into his ear. So far as Theo was concerned,
it was evidently quite unnecessary to say any more, but there was now
the other silent listener to think of, who desired that not a word should
be said, yet would be equally keen to note and put a meaning to the
absence of remark. Between the two, the part of Mrs. Warrender was a
hard one. She said, which, perhaps, was the last thing she ought to have
said: "We saw a great deal of your friend Mr. Cavendish."

"Ah, Dick! yes, he's about town I suppose--pretending to do law, and
doing society. Mother, if you want me to stay to luncheon----"

"I will go and see after it," said Chatty. She gave her mother a look,
as she put down her work. A look--what did it mean, a reproach for having
mentioned him? an entreaty to ask more about him? Mrs. Warrender could
not tell. When they were left alone, her son's restlessness increased.
He felt, it was evident, the dangers of being left with her _tete-a-tete_.

"I hope you didn't see too much of him," he said hastily, as if picking
up something to defend himself. "Cavendish is a fellow with a story, and
no one knows exactly what it is."

"I am sure he is honourable and good," said Mrs. Warrender, and then she
cried, "Theo! don't keep me in this suspense--there is something amiss."

He came at o