family. When Mrs Ffolliot quite innocently discharged
a bomb into their midst by exclaiming, "I've got it. Let's ask Mr
Gallup. He's our member; he was very kind in coming to tell me about
poor Buz's accident, very kind to him, too, I remember. It would be a
friendly thing to do. The Campions are coming, they'd be pleased."

Had Mrs Ffolliot not been gazing straight at her husband, she might
have noticed that three pairs of startled eyes looked up at the same
moment, and then were bent sedulously on the table.

Uz alone curiously regarded his brethren. Mr Ffolliot paused in the
very act of pouring himself out another glass of marsala and set the
decanter on the table with a thump, the glass only half-full.

"Impossible," he said coldly, "absolutely out of the question."

"But why?" Mrs Ffolliot asked; "there's nothing against the young man,
and it would be a friendly thing to do."

"That's why I won't have it done," Mr Ffolliot said decidedly. "It
would give a false impression. He might be disposed to take liberties."

"Oh no, Larrie; why should you think anything of that sort? It seems
to me such a pity people in the county shouldn't be friendly. The
Campions speak most highly of him."

"My dear"--Mr Ffolliot spoke with evident self-restraint--"I do not
care to ask my friends to meet Mr Gallup as an equal. How could you
ask any lady of your own rank to go in to dinner with him? The thing
is outrageous."

"I was going to send him in with Mary," Mrs Ffolliot said innocently.
"We must get somebody, and I know he's in the neighbourhood, for I saw
him to-day."

"If he were in Honolulu he would not be more impossible than he is at
present," said the Squire irritably. "Don't discuss it any more, my
dear, I beg of you. It is out of the question."

And Mr Ffolliot rose from the table and took refuge in his study.

"I'm sorry," Mrs Ffolliot sighed, "I should have liked to ask him," and
then she suddenly awoke to the fact that her entire family looked
perturbed and miserable to the last degree.

Grantly pushed back his chair. "May I go, mother," he said, "I've
something I must say to father."

"Not now, Grantly," and Mrs Ffolliot laid a gentle detaining hand upon
his arm as he passed, "not just when he's feeling annoyed--if there's
anything you have to tell him let it wait--don't go and worry him now."

Grantly lifted his mother's hand off his arm very gently. "I must,
mummy dear, it can't wait."