ural at his age--and it's an Amberson trouble." Having
mentioned this, she looked anxious instantly. "Did you ever feel any
weakness there, Georgie?"

"No!" he laughed.

"Are you sure, dear?"

"No!" And he laughed again. "Did you?"

"Oh, I think not--at least, the doctor told me he thought my heart was
about all right. He said I needn't be alarmed."

"I should think not! Women do seem to be always talking about health: I
suppose they haven't got enough else to think of!"

"That must be it," she said gayly. "We're an idle lot!"

George had taken off his coat. "I don't like to hint to a lady," he
said, "but I do want to dress before dinner."

"Don't be long; I've got to do a lot of looking at you, dear!" She
kissed him and ran away singing.

But his Aunt Fanny was not so fond; and at the dinner-table there came
a spark of liveliness into her eye when George patronizingly asked her
what was the news in her own "particular line of sport."

"What do you mean, Georgie?" she asked quietly.

"Oh I mean: What's the news in the fast set generally? You been causing
any divorces lately?"

"No," said Fanny, the spark in her eye getting brighter. "I haven't been
causing anything."

"Well, what's the gossip? You usually hear pretty much everything that
goes on around the nooks and crannies in this town, I hear. What's the
last from the gossips' corner, auntie?"

Fanny dropped her eyes, and the spark was concealed, but a movement
of her lower lip betokened a tendency to laugh, as she replied. "There
hasn't been much gossip lately, except the report that Lucy Morgan and
Fred Kinney are engaged--and that's quite old, by this time."

Undeniably, this bit of mischief was entirely successful, for there was
a clatter upon George's plate. "What--what do you think you're talking
about?" he gasped.

Miss Fanny looked up innocently. "About the report of Lucy Morgan's
engagement to Fred Kinney."

George turned dumbly to his mother, and Isabel shook her head
reassuringly. "People are always starting rumours," she said. "I haven't
paid any attention to this one."

"But you--you've heard it?" he stammered.

"Oh, one hears all sorts of nonsense, dear. I haven't the slightest idea
that it's true."

"Then you have heard it!"

"I wouldn't let it take my appetite," his father suggested drily. "There
are plenty of girls in the world!"

George turned pale.

"Eat your dinner, Georgie," his aunt said sweetly. "Food will do you