"Well, my love?" said Lady Augustus, as soon as her daughter had joined her in her bedroom. On such occasions there was always a quarter of an hour before going to bed in which the mother and daughter discussed their affairs, while the two lady\'s maids were discussing their affairs in the other room. The two maids probably did not often quarrel, but the mother and daughter usually did.

"I wish that stupid man hadn\'t got himself hurt."

"Of course, my dear; we all wish that. But I really don\'t see that it has stood much in your way."

"Yes it has. After all there is nothing like dancing, and we shouldn\'t all have been sent to bed at two o\'clock."

"Then it has come to nothing?"

"I didn\'t say that at all, mamma. I think I have done uncommonly well. Indeed I know I have. But then if everything had not been upset, I might have done so much better."

"What have you done?" asked Lady Augustus, timidly. She knew perfectly well that her daughter would tell her nothing, and yet she always asked these questions and was always angry when no information was given to her. Any young woman would have found it very hard to give the information needed. "When we were alone he sat for five minutes with his arm round my waist, and then he kissed me. He didn\'t say much, but then I knew perfectly well that he would be on his guard not to commit himself by words. But I\'ve got him to promise that he\'ll write to me, and of course I\'ll answer in such a way that he must write again. I know he\'ll want to see me, and I think I can go very near doing it. But he\'s an old stager and knows what he\'s about: and of course there\'ll be ever so many people to tell him I\'m not the sort of girl he ought to marry. He\'ll hear about Colonel de B——, and Sir C. D——, and Lord E. F——, and there are ever so many chances against me. But I\'ve made up my mind to try it. It\'s taking the long odds. I can hardly expect to win, but if I do pull it off I\'m made for ever!" A daughter can hardly say all that to her mother. Even Arabella Trefoil could not say it to her mother,—or, at any rate, she would not. "What a question that is to ask, mamma?" she did say tossing her head.

"Well, my dear, unless you tell me something how can I help you?"

"I don\'t know that I want you to help me,—at any rate not in that way."

"In what way?"

"Oh, mamma, you are so odd."

"Has he said anything?"

"Yes, he has. He said he liked dry champagne and that he never ate supper."

"If you won\'t tell me how things are going you may fight your own battles by yourself."

"That\'s just what I must do. Nobody else can fight my battles for me."

"What are you going to do about Mr. Morton?"

"Nothing."

"I saw him talking to you and looking as black as thunder."

"He always looks as black as thunder."

"Is that to be all off? I insist upon having an answer to that question."

"I believe you fancy, mamma, that a lot of men can be played like a parcel of chessmen, and that as soon as a knight is knocked on the head you can take him up and put him into the box and have done with him."

"You haven\'t done with Mr. Morton then?"

"Poor Mr. Morton! I do feel he is badly used because he is so honest. I sometimes wish that I could afford to be honest too and to tell somebody the downright truth. I should like to tell him the truth and I almost think I will. \'My dear fellow, I did for a time think I couldn\'t do better, and I\'m not at all sure now that I can. But then you are so very dull, and I\'m not certain that I should care to be Queen of the English society at the Court of the Emperor of Morocco! But if you\'ll wait for another six months, I shall be able to tell you.\' That\'s what I should have to say to him."

"Who is talking nonsense now, Arabella?"

"I am not. But I shan\'t say it. And now, mamma, I\'ll tell you what we must do."

"You must tell me why also."

"I can do nothing of the kind. He knows the Duke." The Duke with the Trefoils always meant the Duke of Mayfair who was Arabella\'s ducal uncle.

"Intimately?"

"Well enough to go there. There is to be a great shooting at Mistletoe,"—Mistletoe was the duke\'s place,—"in January. I got that from him, and he can go if he likes. He won\'t go as it is: but if I tell him I\'m to be there, I think he will."

"What did you tell him?"

"Well;—I told him a tarradiddle of course. I made him understand that I could be there if I pleased, and he thinks that I mean to be there if he goes."

"But I\'m sure the Duchess won\'t have me again."

"She might let me come."

"And what am I to do?"

"You could go to Brighton with Miss De Groat;—or what does it matter for a fortnight? You\'ll get the advantage when it\'s done. It\'s as well to have the truth out at once, mamma,—I cannot carry on if I\'m always to be stuck close to your apron-strings. There are so many people won\'t have you."

"Arabella, I do think you are the most ungrateful, hard-hearted creature that ever lived."

"Very well; I don\'t know what I have to be grateful about, and I need to be hard-hearted. Of course I am hard-hearted. The thing will be to get papa to see his brother."

"Your papa!"

"Yes;—that\'s what I mean to try. The Duke, of course, would like me to marry Lord Rufford. Do you think that if I were at home here it wouldn\'t make Mistletoe a very different sort of place for you? The Duke does like papa in a sort of way, and he\'s civil enough to me when I\'m there. He never did like you."

"Everybody is so fond of you! It was what you did when young Stranorlar was there which made the Duchess almost turn us out of the house."

"What\'s the good of your saying that, mamma? If you go on like that I\'ll separate myself from you and throw myself on papa."

"Your father wouldn\'t lift his little finger for you."

"I\'ll try at any rate. Will you consent to my going there without you if I can manage it?"

"What did Lord Rufford say?" Arabella here made a grimace. "You can tell me something. What are the lawyers to say to Mr. Morton\'s people?"

"Whatever they like."

"If they come to arrangements do you mean to marry him?"

"Not for the next two months certainly. I shan\'t see him again now heaven knows when. He\'ll write no doubt,—one of his awfully sensible letters, and I shall take my time about answering him. I can stretch it out for two months. If I\'m to do any good with this man it will be all arranged before that time. If the Duke could really be made to believe that Lord Rufford was in earnest I\'m sure he\'d have me there. As to her, she always does what he tells her."

"He is going to write to you?"

"I ............