ear old Hiltonbury views, after all, Sweet Honey, and you see what City
atmosphere does to me.'

'You know I never wished to press any choice on you,' she faltered.

'What!' with a good-humoured air of affront, 'you thought me serious?
Don't you know I'm the ninth, instead of the nineteenth-century man,
under your wing? I'd promise you to be a bishop, only, you see, I'm
afraid I couldn't be mediocre enough.'

'For shame, Owen!' and yet she smiled. That boy's presence and caressing
sweetness towards herself were the greatest bliss to her, almost beyond
that of a mother with a son, because more uncertain, less her right by
nature.

Phoebe came down as the carriage was at the door, and they called in
Whittington Street for her brother, but he only came out to say he was
very busy, and would not intrude on Mrs. Charteris--bashfulness for which
he was well abused on the way to Lowndes Square.

Owen, with his air of being at home, put aside the servants as they
entered the magnificent house, replete with a display of state and luxury
analogous to that of Beauchamp, but with better taste and greater ease.
The Fulmorts were in bondage to ostentation; the Charterises were lavish
for their own enjoyment, and heedless alike of cost and of appearance.

The great drawing-room was crowded with furniture, and the splendid
marqueterie tables and crimson ottomans were piled with a wild confusion
of books, prints, periodicals, papers, and caricatures, heaped over
ornaments and bijouterie, and beyond, at the doorway of a second room,
even more miscellaneously filled, a small creature sprang to meet them,
kissing Honora, and exclaiming, 'Here you are! Have you brought the
pig's wool? Ah! but you've brought something else! No--what's become of
that Redbreast!' as she embraced Phoebe.

'He was so busy that he could not come.'

'Ill-behaved bird; a whole month without coming near me.'

'Only a week,' said Phoebe, speaking less freely, as she perceived two
strangers in the room, a gentleman in moustaches, who shook hands with
Owen, and a lady, whom from her greeting to Miss Charlecote (for
introductions were not the way of the house) she concluded to be the
formidable Rashe, and therefore regarded with some curiosity.

Phoebe had expected her to be a large masculine woman, and was surprised
at her dapper proportions and not ungraceful manner. Her face, neither
handsome nor the reverse, was one that neither in features nor compl