, at his age, and with that damned romantic
head--but to be put aside for a lot of low mongrelly socialist
mill-hands--ah, my poor girl--my poor girl!"

Mrs. Ansell mused. "You didn't write me that things were so bad. There's
been no actual quarrel?" she asked.

"How can there be, when the poor child does all he wants? He's simply
too busy to come and thank her!"

"Too busy at Hanaford?"

"So he says. Introducing the golden age at Westmore--it's likely to be
the age of copper at Lynbrook."

Mrs. Ansell drew a meditative breath. "I was thinking of that. I
understood that Bessy would have to retrench while the changes at
Westmore were going on."

"Well--didn't she give up Europe, and cable over to countermand her new
motor?"

"But the life here! This mob of people! Miss Brent tells me the house is
full for every week-end."

"Would you have my daughter cut off from all her friends?"

Mrs. Ansell met this promptly. "From some of the new ones, at any rate!
Have you heard who has just arrived?"

Mr. Langhope's hesitation showed a tinge of embarrassment. "I'm not
sure--some one has always just arrived."

"Well, the Fenton Carburys, then!" Mrs. Ansell left it to her tone to
annotate the announcement.

Mr. Langhope raised his eyebrows slightly. "Are they likely to be an
exceptionally costly pleasure?"

"If you're trying to prove that I haven't kept to the point--I can
assure you that I'm well within it!"

"But since the good Blanche has got her divorce and married Carbury,
wherein do they differ from other week-end automata?"

"Because most divorced women marry again to be respectable."

Mr. Langhope smiled faintly. "Yes--that's their punishment. But it would
be too dull for Blanche."

"Precisely. _She_ married again to see Ned Bowfort!"

"Ah--that may yet be hers!"

Mrs. Ansell sighed at his perversity. "Meanwhile, she's brought him
here, and it is unnatural to see Bessy lending herself to such
combinations."

"You're corrupted by a glimpse of the old societies. Here Bowfort and
Carbury are simply hands at bridge."

"Old hands at it--yes! And the bridge is another point: Bessy never used
to play for money."

"Well, she may make something, and offset her husband's prodigalities."

"There again--with this _train de vie_, how on earth are both ends to
meet?"

Mr. Langhope grown suddenly grave, struck his cane resoundingly on the
terrace. "Westmore and Lynbrook? I don't want them to--I want them to