ectable, educated people, like ourselves.'

'And live in apartments? Thank you; I don't quite see myself. There
isn't a bit of hurry, dear boy. Wait a bit.' She began to sing 'Wait
till the clouds roll by.'

'If you thought as much of me as I do of you--'

Tired of her position, Fanny jumped up and took a spoonful of sweet
jelly from a dish on the table.

'Have some?'

'Come here again. I've something more to tell you. Something very
important.'

She could only be prevailed upon to take a seat near him. Horace, beset
with doubts as to his prudence, but unable to keep the secret, began to
recount the story of his meeting with Mrs. Damerel, whom he had now seen
for the second time. Fanny's curiosity, instantly awakened, grew eager
as he proceeded. She questioned with skill and pertinacity, and elicited
many more details than Nancy Lord had been able to gather.

'You'll promise me not to say a word to any one?' pleaded Horace.

'I won't open my lips. But you're quite sure she's as old as you say?'

'Old enough to be my mother, I assure you.'

The girl's suspicions were not wholly set at rest, but she made no
further display of them.

'Now just think what an advantage it might be to you, to know her,'
Horace pursued. 'She'd introduce you at once to fashionable society,
really tip-top people. How would you like that?'

'Not bad,' was the judicial reply.

'She must have no end of money, and who knows what she might do for me!'

'It's a jolly queer thing,' mused the maiden.

'There's no denying that. We must keep it close, whatever we do.'

'You haven't told anybody else?'

'Not a soul!' Horace lied stoutly.

They were surprised by the sudden opening of the door; a servant
appeared to clear the table. Fanny reprimanded her for neglecting to
knock.

'We may as well go into the drawing-room. There's nobody particular.
Only Mrs. Middlemist, and Mr. Crewe, and--'

In the hall they encountered Crewe himself, who stood there conversing
with Beatrice. A few words were exchanged by the two men, and Horace
followed his enchantress into the drawing-room, where he found, seated
in conversation with Mrs. Peachey, two persons whom he had occasionally
met here. One of them, Mrs. Middlemist, was a stout, coarse,
high-coloured woman, with fingers much bejewelled. Until a year or
two ago she had adorned the private bar of a public-house kept by her
husband; retired from this honourable post, she now devoted herself to