justice, she could not have loved her own son better, nor scolded
him oftener, had she possessed one); Miss Bruce voted him stupid and
sulky. She told him so.

"A merrythought, if you please, and no bread-sauce," said the young
lady, in her calm, imperious manner. "Don't forget I hate bread-sauce,
if you mean to come here often to luncheon; and do _say_ something.
Aunt Agatha can't, no more can I. Recollect we've got a heavy
afternoon before us."

Aunt Agatha always contradicted. "Not heavier than any other
breakfast, Maud," said she severely. "You didn't think that tea at the
Tower heavy last week, nor the ghosts in the mess-room of the Blues.
Lady Goldthred's an old friend of mine, and it was very kind of her to
ask us. Besides, Dick's coming down in the barouche."

Maud's face brightened, and be sure, Dick saw it brighten.

"That accounts for it," said she, with the rare smile in her eyes;
"and he thinks we sha'n't let him smoke, so he sulks beforehand, grim,
grave, and silent as a ghost. Mr. Stanmore, cheer up. You may smoke
the whole way down. _I'll_ give you leave."

"Nonsense, my dear," observed Aunt Agatha sternly. "He don't want
to do anything of the kind. What have you been about, Maud, all
the morning? I looked for you everywhere to help me with the
visiting-list."

"Puckers and I took a 'constitutional,'" answered Miss Bruce
unblushingly. "We wanted to do some shopping." But her dark eyes stole