laughing, "when he's _gone_ I sometimes think of him as being pretty
young, but when he is _with_ me, he is old--old and grave!"

"As a guardian should be, with such a pretty ward," says Mrs.
Constans, smiling. "His back looks young, however."

"And his laugh _sounds_ young."

"Ah! he can laugh then?"

"Very seldom. Too seldom. But when he does, it is a nice laugh. But
he wears spectacles, you know--and--well--oh, yes, he _is_ old,
distinctly old!"



CHAPTER VI.



"He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper; but he is more
excellent who can suit his temper to any circumstances."



"The idea of _your_ having a ward! I could quite as soon imagine
your having a wife," says Hardinge. He knocks the ash off his cigar,
and after meditating for a moment, leans back in his chair and gives
way to irrepressible mirth.