he felt that it was unavoidable.

Enid looked up and gave him an answering smile.

"Oh, yes, I see!" she said hurriedly; but there was some little
dissatisfaction in her mind, she did not quite know why.

Even her innocent heart dimly discerned the fact that Hubert was not her
ideal lover. His wooing had scarcely been ardent in tone; and to find
that it had all been discussed, mapped out, as it were, and formally
permitted by the General, and perhaps by his wife, gave her a sudden
chill. For Flossy's interpretation of Enid's melancholy was by no means
a true one. She had dreamed a little of Hubert in a vague romantic way,
as young girls are apt to do when a new-comer strikes their fancy; but
she had not set her heart upon him at all in the way which Florence had
led her brother to believe. There was certainly danger lest she should
do so now.

"The General says," Hubert went on more lightly, "that you cannot be
expected to know your own mind for a couple of years. What do you say to
that?"

"I think that uncle Richard might know me better," said the girl,
smiling. She was still standing on the hearthrug, and Hubert put his arm
round her as he spoke.

"And he will not consent even to an engagement until you are eighteen,
Enid. But he did not forbid me to speak to you and ask you whether you
cared for me, and if you would wait two years."

"Oh, why should it be so long?" the girl cried out; and then she turned
crimson, seeing the meaning that Hubert attached to her words. "I only
mean," she said, "that I wanted to tell you everything that was in my
mind just now."

"And can't you do it now, little darling?"

"No, not now."

"I must wait for that, must I? We must see if we can soften the
General's obdurate heart, my dear. But you are not unhappy now?"

To his surprise, the shadow rose again in her beautiful eyes, the lips
fell into their old mournful lines.

"I don't know," she said sadly. "I ought not to be; but after all
perhaps this does not make things any better. Oh, I wish I could forget
what I know--what I have heard!"

"It is about Flossy?" said Hubert, in a whisper.

She hid her face, upon his shoulder without a word.

"My poor child, I am half inclined to think that I can guess. I know
that Flossy's life has not been all that it should have been. No, don't
tell me--I will not ask you again unless you wish to confide in me."

"You said you did not know."

"I do not know--exactly; but I suspe