“Why, Arthur, I had almost forgotten what you are like,” said Mildred, when that young gentleman at last put in an appearance at the Quinta. “Where have you been to all this time?”

“I— oh, I have been writing letters,” said Arthur.

“Then they must have been very long ones. Don’t tell fibs, Arthur; you have not stopped away from here for a day and a half in order to write letters. What is the matter with you?”

“Well, if you must know, Mildred, I detest your friend Lord Minster, the mere sight of him sets my teeth on edge, and I did not want to meet him. I only came here today because Lady Florence told me that they were going up to the Convent this afternoon.”

“So you have been to see Lady Florence?”

“No, I met her buying fruit yesterday, and went for a walk with her.”

“In the intervals of the letter-writing?”

“Yes.”

“Well, do you know I detest Lady Florence?”

“That is very unkind of you. She is charming.”

“From your point of view, perhaps, as her brother is from mine.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you think that horrid fellow charming?” asked Arthur in disgust.

“Why should I not?”

“Oh, for the matter of that there is no reason why you should not, but I can’t congratulate you either on your friend or your taste.”

“Leaving my taste out of the question, why do you call Lord Minster my friend?”

“Because Miss Terry told me that he was; she said that he was always proposing to you, and that you would probably marry him in the end.”

Mildred blushed faintly.

“She has no business to tell you; but, for the matter of that, so have many other men. It does not follow that, because they choose to propose to me, they are my friends.”

“No, but then they have not married you.”

“No more has he; but, while we are talking of it, why should I not marry Lord Minster? He can give me position, influence, everything that is dear to a woman, except the rarest of all gifts — love.”

“But is love so rare, Mildred?”

“Yes, the love that it can satisfy a woman either to receive or to give, especially the latter, for in this we are more blessed in giving than in receiving. It is but very rarely that the most fortunate of us get a chance of accepting such love as I mean, and we can only give it once in our lives. But you have not told me your reasons against my marrying Lord Minster.”

“Because he is a mean-spirited, selfish man. If he were not, he could not have talked as he did last night. Because you do not love him, Mildred, you cannot love such a man as that, if he were fifty times a member of the Government.”

“What does it matter to you, Arthur,” she said, in a voice of indescribable softness, bending her sunny head low over her work, “whether I love him or not; my doing so would not make your heart beat the faster.”

“I don’t wish you to marry him,” he said, confusedly.

She raised her head and looked full at him with eyes which shone like stars through a summer mist.

“That is enough, Arthur,” she answered, in a tone of gentle submission, “if you do not wish it, I will not,” and, rising, she left the room.

Arthur blushed furiously at her words, and a new sensation crept over him.

“Surely,” he said to himself, “she cannot —— No, of course she only means that she will take my advice.”

But, though he dismissed the suspicion thus readily, it left something that he could not quite define behind it. He had, after the manner of young men were women are concerned, thought that he understood Mildred thoroughly; now he came to the modest conclusion that he knew very little about her.

On the following afternoon, when he was at the Quinta talking as usual to Mrs. Carr, he saw Lord Minster coming up the steps of the portico, dressed in much the same way and with exactly the same air as he was accustomed to assume when he mounted those of the “Reform,” or occasionally, if he thought that the “hungry electors” wanted “pandering” to, those of the new “National Club.”

“Hullo,” said Arthur, “here comes Lord Minster in his war paint, frock coat, tall hat, eye-glass and all. Good-bye.”

“Why do you go away, Arthur? Stop and protect me,” said Mildred, laughing.

“Oh, no, indeed, I don’t want to spoil sport. I would not interfere with your amusement on any account.”

Mildred looked a little vexed.

“Well, you will come back to dinner?”

“That depends upon what happens.”

“I told you what would happen, Arthur. Good-bye.”

“Perhaps it is as well to get it over at once,” thought Mildred.

In the hall Arthur met Lord Minster, and they passed with a gesture of recognition so infinitesimally small that it almost faded into the nothingness of a “cut.” So far as he could condescend to notice so low a thing at all, his lordship had conceived a great dislike for Arthur.

“How do you do, Lord Minster?” said Mildred, cordially. “I hear that you went to the Convent yesterday; what did you think of the view?”

“The view, Mrs. Carr — was there a view? I did not notice it; indeed, I only went up there at all to please Florence. I don’t like that sort of thing.”

“If you don’t like roughing it, I am afraid that you did not enjoy your voyage out.”

“Well, no, I don’t think I did, and there was a low fellow on board who had been ruined by the retrocession of the Transvaal, and who, hearing that I was in the Government, took every possible opportunity to tell me publicly that his wife and children were almost in a state of starvation, as though I cared about his confounded wife and children. He was positively brutal. No, certainly I did not enjoy it. However, I am rewarded by finding you here.”

“I am very much flattered.”

Lord Minster fixed his eye-glass firmly in his eye, planted his hands at the bottom of his trousers pockets, and, clearing his throat, placed himself in the attitude that was so familiar to the House, and began.

“Mrs. Carr, I told you, when last I had the pleasure of seeing you, that I should take the first opportunity of renewing a conversation that I was forced to suspend in order to attend, if my memory serves me, a very important committee meeting. I was therefore surprised, indeed I may almost say hurt, when I found that you had suddenly flitted from London.”

“Indeed, Lord Minster?”

“I will not, however, take up the time of this — I mean your time, by recapitulating all that I told you on that occasion; the facts are, so to speak, all upon the table, and I will merely touch upon the main heads of m............