orge Fordyce was listening to a maternal lecture the morning after a
dance, at which he had been distributing his attentions very freely
among the most attractive of the young ladies present. The breakfast was
nearly an hour late, and mother and son partook of it alone, Mr. Fordyce
being in London on business, and the fair Julia not yet out of bed.

'It's all your nonsense, mother,' said George imperturbably. 'I didn't
pay special court to anybody except Clara. She was the best dancer in
the room and very nearly the handsomest girl.'

'You should have pity on Clara, my dear,' his mother said indulgently.
'You know she is fond of you; she can't hide it, poor thing, and it is a
shame to pay her too much attention in public, when it can't come to
anything.'

'I can't help it if girls will be silly,' was the complacent reply.
'Clara is all very well as a cousin, but I'd like more spirit in a
wife.'

'It strikes me you will get enough of it if you should be successful
where we wish you to be successful,' said his mother, with a keen glance
across the table. 'Gladys Graham is a very self-willed piece of
humanity. Your Aunt Isabel told me only yesterday of her absurd fad to
have common girls visiting her at Bourhill. It is quite time somebody
took her firmly in hand, or she will become that insufferable kind of
person, a woman with a mission to set the world right.'

George emptied his coffee-cup, and returned his mother's look with one
equally steady and keen.

'There is no use going on at me, mother. I've done all I can do in the
meantime. I asked her, and she'--

'Did not refuse you, I hope?' exclaimed Mrs. Fordyce, with a gasp.

'Well, not quite; she said I must leave her alone for a long time, and I
mean to. It isn't pleasant for a fellow to be sat on by a
girl--especially,' he added, with a significant shrug, 'when he isn't
used to it.'

'I wish you would tell me when all this happened. You have been very
close about it, George,' his mother said reproachfully.

'I wish I had remained close; but now that I've let the cat out, I may
as well tell the whole tale. It was only a fortnight ago--that Saturday
afternoon I was down at Bourhill. I had no intention of committing
myself when I went, but somehow I got carried away, and asked her. I
believe I should have had a more favourable answer, but a confounded
maid came in with tea--as they always do when nobody wants them.'

'And what did she say?' queried Mrs. For