portrait above the mantel. Mr. McAllister was more at home here.

"A rattling good picture. General Waite, by the way," he informed her,
"was own cousin to my grandmother on my mother's side. My great
grandfather and his father were brothers, don't you know."

"Indeed!" said Margaret Elizabeth, politely. The relationship did
not interest her, but she wondered, in annoyance, why the cousin of
Augustus, on his mother's side, should look down on her with the eyes of
the Candy Man. Stern eyes they were, with a sparkle of humour behind the
sternness.

On the way home Mrs. Pennington was stirred to reminiscence. "One of
the first parties I ever attended was in that old house," she said.
"It must have been thirty-five years ago. I was a very young girl--barely
seventeen. General Waite was a most courtly man, and his wife was quite
famous for her beauty. It was there I met Mr. Pennington. He and the
general's nephew, Robert Waite, were great friends. They went to college
together. He disappeared strangely. I remember Gerrard was dread fully
upset about it at the time. It was just before our marriage."

To all this Margaret Elizabeth only half listened. The eyes of the
general lingered reproachfully with her, and perhaps were at the bottom
of that policy of postponement with which Augustus was met when the
inevitable moment came.

Just a little time was all she asked. Mr. McAllister was talking of a
trip to Panama; let him go, and on his return he should have his answer.

Miss Bentley was very sweet as she spoke thus; eminently worth waiting