r welfare is very near to my
heart."

"I know that," he answered gently. "But you were not describing an
imaginary paragon. Hadn't you Millicent in your mind?"

"I should be very happy if I could welcome her as my daughter. I should
feel that you were safe then."

There was a thrill of regret in her voice that touched him. It hinted
that she blamed herself for omissions and lack of wisdom in his
upbringing. Besides, her confidence in any one who had won her respect,
as Millicent had done, was bestowed so generously.

"I'm afraid I've often given you trouble, and I do you little credit
now," he said. "But, as to the other matter, one can't be sure that
Millicent would welcome the idea. Of late I've had a suspicion that she
hasn't a very high opinion of me."

"You could hardly expect to gain it by devoting yourself to Miss
Crestwick."

The man smiled rather grimly.

"If it's any consolation to you, I'm inclined to think that Miss
Crestwick has let me drop. The truth's not very flattering, but I can't
hide it."

Mrs. Gladwyne's relief was obvious, but she had more to say and she
ventured upon it with some courage.

"If you would only get rid of Batley too!"

"I can hardly do that just now; he's useful in several ways. Still, of
course, if I married--"

He broke off abruptly, for his mother had occasional flashes of
discernment.

"Millicent has means," she said.

He started at this, wondering how much she had guessed, but he veiled his
embarrassment with a smile.

"Well," he acknowledged, "means, as you most wisely remarked, are not to
be despised, and mine are unfortunately small."

She saw that she had said enough and she left him sitting in the
darkening room thinking rather hard. Bella had thrown him over when he
had refused to help her brother, and there were many ways in which
Millicent appealed to him. Besides, she could free him of his debt to
Batley, which was a thing greatly to be desired. She had shown that she
did not blame him severely for the accident at the hurdles, but he
realized that in trying to comfort him she had been prompted by pity for
his dejected mood, and it was clear that the part he had played was
scarcely likely to raise him in her esteem. This was unfortunate, but he
would not dwell on it; there were other points to consider and anything
that served to divert his thoughts from the unfortunate affair was a vast
relief.

When at last he rose he had partly recovered his usu