"My poor boy!" "Go to the office again to-night?" exclaimed his mother and his wife simultaneously. "Yes; it is now half-past eight. I have an appointment. At least--I shall be back in an hour, I have no doubt." Algernon walked off with an air of good-humoured resignation, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. The two women, left alone together, took his departure very differently. Mrs. Errington was majestically wrathful with a system of things which involved so much discomfort to a scion of the house of Ancram. She was of opinion that some strong representations should be made to the ministry; that Parliament should be appealed to. And she rather enjoyed her own eloquence, and was led on by it to make some most astounding assertions, and utter some scathing condemnations with an air of comfortable self-satisfaction. Castalia, on the other hand, remained gloomily taciturn, huddled into an easy-chair by the hearth, and staring fixedly at the fire. It has been recorded in these pages that Mrs. Errington did not much object to silence on the part of her companion for the time being; she only required an assenting or admiring interjection now and then, to enable her to carry on what she supposed to be a very agreeable conversation, but she did like her confidante to do that much towards social intercourse. And she liked, moreover, to see some look of pleasure, interest, or sympathy on the confidante's face. Looking at Castalia's moody and abstracted countenance, she could not but remember the gentle listener in whom she had been wont for so many years to find a sweet response to all her utterances. "Oddly enough," she said, "I have been disappointed of a visitor this evening, and so should have been quite alone if you and Algy had not come in. I had asked Rhoda to spend the evening with me." Castalia looked round at the sound of that name. "Why didn't she come?" she asked abruptly. "Oh, I don't know. She merely said she could not leave home to-night. That old father of hers sometimes takes tyrannical fancies into his head. He has been kinder to dear Rhoda of late, and has treated her more becomingly--chiefly, I believe I may say, owing to my influence, although the old booby chose to quarrel with me--but when he takes a thing into his head he is as obstinate as a mule." "I don't know about treating her 'becomingly,' but I think she needs some one to look after her and keep her in check." "Who, Rhoda? My dear Castalia, she is the very sweetest-tempered creature I ever met with in my life; and that is saying a good deal, let me tell you, for the Ancram temper was something quite special. A gift. I don't boast of it, because I believe it was simply constitutional. But such was the fact." "The girl is dressed up beyond her station. The last time I saw her it was absurd. Scarcely reputable, I should think."