the terrace, resting after the fatigues of the day. Sir
Philip was smoking a very mild cigarette: he was not very fond of
tobacco, for, as the Adairs sometimes expressed it, he "had no small
vices." Lady Ashley was wrapped in a white shawl, and her delicate,
blue-veined hands were crossed upon her lap in unaccustomed idleness.

"I did notice him," said her son, quietly. "He seemed to be paying a
great deal of attention to Miss Adair."

"Oh, Philip, dear, it distressed me so much!"

"Why should it distress you, mother?--it is nothing to us."

"Well, if you feel in that way about it--still, I am grieved for the
Adairs' sake. After all, they are old friends of ours. And I had
hoped----"

"Our hopes are not often realized, are they?" said Sir Philip, in the
gentle, persuasive tones that his mother thought so winning. "Perhaps it
is best. At any rate, it is best to forget the hopes that never _can_ be
realized."

"Do you think it is really so, Philip? Everyone was talking about his
manner this afternoon."

"She was giving him every encouragement," said her son, looking away.

"Such an undesirable match! Poor Lady Caroline!"

"We do not know how things are being arranged, mother. Possibly Lady
Caroline and Mr. Adair are favoring an engagement. Miss Adair is hardly
likely to act against their will."

"No, she has scarcely resolution enough for that. Then you don't think
that they met for the first time this afternoon?"

"Gracious heavens, no!" said Sir Philip, roused a little out of his
apparent indifference. "They met quite as old acquaintances--old
friends. I suppose the Adairs have renewed the friendship. The
properties lie side by side. That may be a reason."

"I am very sorry we asked him here," said Lady Ashley, almost viciously.
"I had no idea that he was paying attention to _her_. I hope there is
nothing wrong about it--such a very undesirable match!"

"I don't really know why," said her son, with a forced smile. "Wyvis
Brand is a fine, handsome fellow, and the property, though small, is a
nice one. Miss Adair might do worse."

"I believe her mother thinks that she might marry a duke."

"And so she might. She is a great beauty, and an heiress." And there was
a ring of bitterness in his tone which pained his mother's heart.

"Ah, Philip," she said--not very, wisely--"you need not regret her. 'A
fair woman without discretion,' she would not be the wife for you."

"I beg that you will not say that agai