anged glances.

"No," said Cousin George, bluntly. (Damn it all, was he to be
cross-questioned next?)

"You seemed to like her. How you and she did talk! And you got away from
us altogether," proceeded Gwenny, stabbing her own wound as a greenhorn
will. "I suppose you think her very pretty?"

"If I do, do you think I should tell you, Tailywags?" He tossed the
thick plait of her hair up and down in returning good-humour. After all,
he might as well hear if she had anything amusing to say.

"I believe it is only because she wears black," continued Gwenny,
watching to see how this was taken. "Black, with a little white stuff
about the throat, _is_ so becoming, and Leo doesn't look a bit like a
widow now."

"So you noticed that, you observant imp? I say, Aunt Laura, when did
this young person of yours become such a prodigy? Perhaps she will tell
me what the--the lady under discussion does look like, eh?"--lighting a
cigarette,--for free and easy manners prevailed in the Butt mansion,
and every one did as they chose there.

"Just like any other girl," responded Gwen, readily. "And--and I don't
think she ought, either."

"Oh, just like any other girl. And, pray, why don't you think she
ought?"

"Because she's not; she's a married woman. She was married ever so long
ago, when I was little."

"Of course you're awfully big now. And so Mrs. Stubbs--Heavens, what a
name!--even though she has lost her husband, is to go on for ever being
'a married woman' in your eyes, is she?"

But here Gwen's mother interposed, having had enough, and burning for
more confidential intercourse.

"Of course Gwenny is right, George. But--but you don't quite understand,
darling," to her. "And Cousin George is only teasing. Suppose you run
away to Miss Whitmore now, and see what she has been about all this
time? She will wonder what has become of you."

"Oh, she won't, she's writing letters. She always writes letters when
you send for me, and she had----"

"Tell her, love, that the post goes out at----"

"She knows when the post goes out. She knows better than any one else in
the house, for she has told me lots of times."

"Go, now, Gwenny. Go, my dear, when I tell you."

"You'll have a handful to deal with when that young lady comes out,"
observed George, bringing his eyes back from the door as it slowly
closed upon the reluctant figure. "Gwen's too clever by half for you,
Aunt Laura; and, I say, we must both keep our eyes skinned