outstrip the other girls, and go away with the great
prize. They are all watching him; he will go to one of you for certain.
I hear that Mrs. Scully--that great, fat, common creature, who sold
bacon in a shop in Galway--is thinking of him for her daughter. Of
course, if you like to see Violet become a marchioness, right under your
nose, you can do so.'

'But what do you want me to do?' exclaimed the coronet-dazzled girl.

'Merely to think no more of Captain Hibbert. But I didn't tell you;--he
was very impertinent to me when I last saw him. He said he would flirt
with you, as long as you would flirt with him, and that he didn't see
why you shouldn't amuse yourself. That's what I want to warn you
against--losing your chance of being a marchioness to help an idle young
officer to while away his time. If I were you, I would tell him, when I
next saw him, that he must not think about it any more. You can put it
all down to me; say that I would never hear of it; say that you couldn't
think of disobeying me, but that you hope you will always remain
friends. You see, that's the advantage of having a mother;--poor mamma
has to bear everything.'

Olive made no direct answer, but she laughed nervously, and in a manner
that betokened assent; and, having so far won her way, Mrs. Barton
determined to conclude. But she could not invite Captain Hibbert to the
house! The better plan would be to meet on neutral ground. A
luncheon-party at Dungory Castle instantly suggested itself; and three
days after, as they drove through the park, Mrs. Barton explained to
Olive, for the last time, how she should act if she wished to become the
Marchioness of Kilcarney.

'Shake hands with him just as if nothing had happened, but don't enter
into conversation; and after lunch I shall arrange that we all go out
for a walk on the terrace. You will then pair off with him, Alice; Olive
will join you. Something will be sure to occur that will give her an
opportunity of saying that he must think no more about her--that I would
never consent.'

'Oh! mamma, it is very hard, for I can never forget him.'

'Now, my dear girl, for goodness' sake don't work yourself up into a
state of mind, or we may as well go back to Brookfield. What I tell you
to do is right; and if you see nobody at the Castle that you like
better--well, then it will be time enough. I want you to be, at least,
the beauty of one season.'

This argument again turned the scales. Olive laug