black lace shawl.

"She has just run out into Westbourne Grove to get some gloves and
a flower for the fete this evening," Hilda answered. Then she added,
significantly, "Mr. Holsworthy has gone with her."

"What? That boy's been here again?"

"Yes, Lady Tepping. He called to see Daphne."

My aunt turned to me with an aggrieved tone. It is a peculiarity of my
aunt's--I have met it elsewhere--that if she is angry with Jones, and
Jones is not present, she assumes a tone of injured asperity on his
account towards Brown or Smith, or any other innocent person whom she
happens to be addressing. "Now, this is really too bad, Hubert," she
burst out, as if _I_ were the culprit. "Disgraceful! Abominable! I'm
sure I can't make out what the young fellow means by it. Here he comes
dangling after Daphne every day and all day long--and never once says
whether he means anything by it or not. In MY young days, such conduct
as that would not have been considered respectable."

I nodded and beamed benignly.

"Well, why don't you answer me?" my aunt went on, warming up. "DO you
mean to tell me you think his behaviour respectful to a nice girl in
Daphne's position?"

"My dear aunt," I answered, "you confound the persons. I am not Mr.
Holsworthy. I decline responsibility for him. I meet him here, in YOUR
house, for the first time this morning."