"Rather pale, aunt."

"Grown very much--don't you think, Richard?"

"Very tall girl indeed, aunt."

"If she had but a little more colour, my dear Richard! I'm sure I give
her all the iron she can swallow, but that pallor still continues. I
think she does not prosper away from her old companion. She was
accustomed to look up to you, Richard"--

"Did you get Ralph's letter, aunt?" Richard interrupted her.

"Absurd!" Mrs. Doria pressed his arm. "The nonsense of a boy! Why did
you undertake to forward such stuff?"

"I'm certain he loves her," said Richard, in a serious way.

The maternal eyes narrowed on him. "Life, my dear Richard, is a game of
cross-purposes," she observed, dropping her fluency, and was rather
angered to hear him laugh. He excused himself by saying that she spoke
so like his father.

"You breakfast with us," she freshened off again. "The Foreys wish to
see you; the girls are dying to know you. Do you know, you have a
reputation on account of that"--she crushed an intruding adjective--
"System you were brought up on. You mustn't mind it. For my part, I
think you look a credit to it. Don't be bashful with young women, mind!
As much as you please with the old ones. You know how to behave among
men. There you have your Drawing-room Guide! I'm sure I shall be proud