"Yes, I think so," Annesley-Seton reassured her. "They're a pair of
children, willing to be guided. They can have anything they want in the
world, but they don't seem to know what to want."

"Splendid!" laughed Constance. "Can't we will them to want our house in
town, and invite us to visit them?"

"I shouldn't wonder," replied her husband. "You might make a start in
that direction when they come to dinner to-morrow evening."

Lord Annesley-Seton had outgrown such enthusiasms as he might once have
had, therefore his account of the cousins encouraged Constance to hope
much, and she was not disappointed. On the contrary, she thought that he
had not said enough, especially about the man.

If she had not had so many anxieties that her youthful love of "larks"
had been crushed out, she would have "adored" a flirtation with Nelson
Smith. It would have been "great fun" to steal him from the pretty
beanpole of a girl who would not know how to use her claws in a fight
for her man; but as it was, Connie thought only of conciliating "Cousin
Anne," and winning her confidence. Other women would try to take Nelson
Smith from his wife, but Connie would have her hands full in playing a
less amusing game.

She thought, seeing that the handsome, dark young man she admired had a
mind of his own, it would be a difficult game to play; and Nelson Smith
saw that she thought so. His sense of humour caused him to smile at his
own cleverness in producing the impression; and he would have given a
good deal for someone to laugh with over her maneuvers to entice him