"A horse race?" asked Mrs. Hilary with great contempt.

"Certainly the competitors are horses," I rejoined. "And there
he, most unfortunately, lost the whole sum, without learning any
French to speak of."

"How disgusting!" exclaimed Mrs. Hilary, and little Miss Phyllis
gasped in horror.

"Oh, well," said Hilary, with much bravery (as it struck me),
"his father's very well off."

"That doesn't make it a bit better, declared his wife.

"There's no mortal sin in a little betting, my dear. Boys will
be boys--"

"And even that," I interposed, "wouldn't matter if we could only
prevent girls from being girls."

Mrs. Hilary, taking no notice whatever of me, pronounced
sentence. "He grossly deceived his father," she said, and took
up her embroidery.

"Most of us have grossly deceived our parents before now," said
I. "We should all have to confess to something of the sort."

"I hope you're speaking for your own sex," observed Mrs. Hilary.