never mind. I'm sure I shall like you. You'll come over to my side soon."

"Why should I take any side?" asked Mrs. Friend, drawing on a pair of
black gloves.

"Well, because"--said Helena slowly--"Cousin Philip doesn't like some of
my pals--some of the men, I mean--I go about with--and we _may_ quarrel
about it. The question is which of them I'm going to marry--if I marry
any of them. And some of them are married. Don't look shocked! Oh,
heavens, there's the gong! But we'll sit up to-night, if you're not
sleepy, and I'll give you a complete catalogue of some of their
qualifications--physical, intellectual, financial. Then you'll have the
_carte du pays_. Two of them are coming to-morrow for the Sunday. There's
nobody coming to-night of the least interest. Cynthia Welwyn, Captain
Vivian Lodge, Buntingford's cousin--rather a prig--but good-looking. A
girl or two, no doubt--probably the parson--probably the agent. Now you
know. Shall we go down?"

* * * * *

The library was already full when the two ladies entered. Mrs. Friend was
aware of a tall fair woman, beautifully dressed in black, standing by
Lord Buntingford; of an officer in uniform, resplendent in red tabs and
decorations, talking to a spare grey-haired man, who might be supposed to
be the agent; of a man in a round collar and clerical coat, standing
awkward and silent by the tall lady in black; and of various other girls
and young men.

All eyes were turned to Helena as she entered, and she was soon
surrounded, while Lord Buntingford took special care of Helena's