Harry found himself quite at home in ten minutes; and, before Mr. Burton
had returned, had been taken upstairs into the nursery to see Theodore
Burton, Junior, in his cradle, Theodore Burton, Junior, being as yet
only some few months old. "Now you've seen us all," said Mrs. Burton,
"and we'll go downstairs and wait for my husband. I must let you into a
secret, too. We don't dine till past seven; you may as well remember
that for the future. But I wanted to have you for half an hour to myself
before dinner, so that I might look at you, and make up my mind about
Flo's choice. I hope you won't be angry with me?"

"And how have you made up your mind?"

"If you want to find that out, you must get it through Florence. You may
be quite sure I shall tell her; and I suppose I may be quite sure she
will tell you. Does she tell you everything?"

"I tell her everything," said Harry, feeling himself, however, to be a
little conscience-smitten at the moment, as he remembered his interview
with Lady Ongar. Things had occurred this very day which he certainly
could not tell her.

"Do--do; always do that," said Mrs. Burton, laying her hand
affectionately on his arm. "There is no way so certain to bind a woman
to you, heart and soul, as to show her that you trust her in everything.
Theodore tells me everything. I don't think there's a drain planned
under a railway bank but that he shows it me in some way; and I feel so
grateful for it. It makes me know that I can never do enough for him. I
hope you'll be as good to Flo as he is to me."

"We can't both be perfect, you know."