't know what I was
saying."

"You were defining what 'like' means. But people always get muddled
when they attempt definitions," said the mother.

"Though it depends somewhat on externals, it has more to do with
internals. That is what I mean. A man and woman might live together
with most enduring love, though one had been noble and wealthy and
the other poor and a nobody. But a thorough brute and a human being
of fine conditions can hardly live together and love each other."

"That is true," she said. "That I fear is true."

"I hope it is true."

"It has often to be tried, generally to the great detriment of the
better nature."

All this, however, had been said before George Roden had spoken a
word to Lady Frances, and had referred only to the friendship as it
was growing between her son and the young lord.

The young lord had come on various occasions to the house at
Holloway, and had there made himself thoroughly pleasant to his
friend's mother. Lord Hampstead had a way of making himself pleasant
in which he never failed when he chose to exercise it. And he did
exercise it almost always,--always, indeed, unless he was driven
to be courteously disagreeable by opposition to his own peculiar
opinion. In shooting, fishing, and other occupations not approved of,
he would fall into a line of argument, seemingly and indeed truly
good-humoured, which was apt, however, to be aggravating to his
opponent. In this way he would make himself thoroughly odious to his
stepmother, with whom he had not one sentiment in common. In other
respects his manners were invariably sweet, with an assumption
of intimacy which was not unbecoming; and thus he had greatly
recommended himself to Mrs. Roden. Who does not know the fashion
in which the normal young man conducts himself when he is making a
morning call? He has come there because he means to be civil. He
would not be there unless he wished to make himself popular. He is
carrying out some recognized purpose of society. He would fain be
agreeable if it were possible. He would enjoy the moment if he could.
But it is clearly his conviction that he is bound to get through a
certain amount of altogether uninteresting conversation, and then
to get himself out of the room with as little awkwardness as may be.
Unless there be a pretty girl, and chance favour him with her special
companionship, he does not for a moment suppose that any social
pleasure is to be enjoyed. That rational amus