ver had. Ah, my dear, don't mind me--run your
menagerie as you like, and I'll stand it."

Margaret adopted her usual tactics; she perched herself on the arm
of his chair and began to stroke his cheek very gently. She
often wondered as to what dear sort of a woman that tender-eyed,
pink-cheeked mother of the old miniature had been--the mother who had
died when she was two years old. She loved the idea of her, vague as
it was. And, just now, somehow, the notion of two grown people reading
Ouida did not strike her as being especially ridiculous.

"Was she very beautiful?" she asked, softly.

"My dear," said her father, "you are the picture of her."

"You dangerous old man!" said she, laughing and rubbing her cheek
against his in a manner that must have been highly agreeable. "Dear,
do you know that is the nicest little compliment I've had for a long
time?"

Thereupon the Colonel chuckled. "Pay me for it, then," said he, "by
driving the dog-cart over to meet Billy's train to-day. Eh?"

"I--I can't," said Miss Hugonin, promptly.

"Why?" demanded her father.

"Because----" said Miss Hugonin; and after giving this really
excellent reason, reflected for a moment and strengthened it by
adding, "Because----"

"See here," her father questioned, "what did you two quarrel about,
anyway?"

"I--I really don't remember," said she, reflectively; then continued,
with hauteur and some inconsistency, "I am not aware that Mr. Woods
and I have ever quarrelled."

"By gad, then," said the Colonel, "you may as well prepare to, for
I intend to marry you to Billy some day. Dear, dear, child," he
interpolated, with malice aforethought, "have you a fever?--your
cheek's like a coal. Billy's a man, I tell you--worth a dozen of your
Kennastons and Charterises. I like Billy. And besides, it's only right
he should have Selwoode--wasn't he brought up to expect it? It
ain't right he should lose it simply because he had a quarrel with
Frederick, for, by gad--not to speak unkindly of the dead, my
dear--Frederick quarrelled with every one he ever knew, from the woman
who nursed him to the doctor who gave him his last pill. He may have
gotten his genius for money-making from Heaven, but he certainly
got his temper from the devil. I really believe," said the Colonel,
reflectively, "it was worse than mine. Yes, not a doubt of it--I'm a
lamb in comparison. But he had his way, after all; and even now poor
Billy can't get Selwoode without taking you