n, mother." He did not turn his
face towards her, and his voice was studiously gentle, but it was
decided too. "She is, as you say, 'a fair woman,' but she has not shown
herself as yet 'without discretion,' and it is hardly kind to condemn
her before she has done any wrong."

"I do not think that she behaved well to you, Philip. But I beg your
pardon, my son: we will not discuss the matter. It seems hard to me, of
course, that you should have suffered for any woman's sake."

"Ah, mother, every one does not see me with your kind eyes," he said,
bringing his face round with a smile, and laying his right hand over one
of hers. But the smile thinly disguised the pain that lingered like a
shadow in his eyes. "Let us hope, at any rate, that Margaret may be
happy."

Lady Ashley sighed and pressed his hand. "If you could but meet some one
else whom you cared for as much, Philip!" And then she paused, for he
had--involuntarily as it seemed--shaken his head, and she did not like
to proceed further.

A pause of some minutes followed; and then she determined to change the
subject.

"The music went very well this afternoon, I think," she said. "Miss
Colwyn was in very good voice. Do you not like her singing?"

"Yes, very much."

"The Watertons were asking me about her. And the Bevans. I fancy she
will get several engagements. Poor girl, I hope she will."

Sir Philip threw away the end of his cigarette, and got up rather
abruptly, Lady Ashley thought. Without a word he began to pace up and
down the terrace, and finally, turning his back on her, he stared at the
garden and the distant view, now faintly illumined by a rising moon, as
if he had forgotten his mother's very existence. Lady Ashley was
surprised. He usually treated her with such marked distinction that to
appear for a moment unconscious of her presence was almost a slight. She
was too dignified, however, to try to recall his attention, and she
waited quietly until her son turned round again and suddenly faced her
with an air of calm determination.

"Mother," he said, "I have something important to say."

"Well, Philip?"

"You have often said that you wanted me to marry."

"Yes, dearest, I do wish it."

"I also see the expediency of marriage. The woman whom I loved, who
seemed to us as suitable as she is lovely, will not marry me. What shall
I look for in my second choice? Character rather than fortune, health
rather than beauty. This seems to me the wiser w