had said, or some funny incident which had happened in the home
of the little family. Sometimes he found himself thinking that
it was a shame to have to suppress these impulses. There must be
something wrong, he thought, with a social system which made it
necessary for him to hide a thing which was so obvious and so
sensible. Here he was, a man twenty-six years of age; he could
not have afforded to marry earlier, nor could he, as he thought,
have been expected to lead a continent life. And he had really
loved Lizette; she was really a good girl. Yet, if Henriette had
got any idea of it, she would have been horrified and indignant--
she might even have broken off the engagement.

And then, too, there was Henriette's father, a personage of great
dignity and importance. M. Loches was a deputy of the French
Parliament, from a district in the provinces. He was a man of
upright life, and a man who made a great deal of that upright
life--keeping it on a pedestal where everyone might observe it.
It was impossible to imagine M. Loches in an undignified or
compromising situation--such as the younger man found himself
facing in the matter of Lizette.

The more he thought about it the more nervous and anxious George
became. Then it was decided it would be necessary for him to
break with the girl, and be "good" until the time of his
marriage. Dear little soft-eyed Lizette--he did not dare to face
her personally; he could never bear to say good-by, he felt.
Instead, he went to the father, who as a man could be expected to
understand the situation. George was embarrassed and not a
little nervous about it; for although he had never misrepresented
his attitude to the family, one could never feel entirely free