lked with her
father about the maid-of-honorship and had found an opportunity to tell
me that while he was not yet persuaded, he was at least in a receptive
mood, ready to listen to what I had to say. In the evening Frances and
Sarah went off to bed early, leaving Sir Richard to the mercies of myself
and a flagon of wormwood wine which I had brought in as an ally from the
Black Dog Tavern.

At first when I broached the subject of Frances becoming a maid of honor,
he turned away from me, saying:--

"I fear, nephew, I fear! I confess that I did not expect the suggestion
to come from you; you know the court even better than I do. My dear boy,
we might as well send the little girl to the devil at once."

"Whitehall is no heaven, I admit," I answered. "But you don't know
Frances. She will be as safe at court as she is in your house. The devil
is everywhere, uncle, if one chooses to seek him."

"That is true, Ned."

"And Frances will not seek him anywhere. Of that I was sure before I
determined to suggest this matter. It is true she has seen nothing of
life beyond the pale of your influence and protection, but you are well
along in years, uncle, and must face the truth that your daughters will
have to confront the world without you, sooner or later--later, I hope."

"That terrible truth is my only reason to fear death," returned Sir
Richard, sighing and leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, it must be a terrible thought to you," I answered, cruelly, for the
purpose of forcing my dear old antagonist into the right way of thinking.
"But it is your duty to your daughters to face it squarely, and if
possible, to let it help you in preparing them to meet the world. They
may, if they will, find evil everywhere; they may avoid it anywhere.
Frances, with her marvellous beauty, is sure to meet good fortune at
court, and good fortune is a great moral preservative of women."

"Bad doctrine, Ned, bad doctrine," said my uncle, shaking his head.

"But good truth," I answered. "Vice, like disease, breeds best in
poverty."

"You have just admitted that Whitehall is a nest of vice. Wealth has not
prevented it there," returned my uncle, beating me in the argument for a
moment.

But I soon rallied: "Wealth will not help those who want to go wrong, but
it has saved many a woman who wanted to be good. However, all this
argument is impertinent. Frances is strong, and she is good, and you may
rest your mind of all fear that she will ever b