There had never been the faintest shadow of concealment about the honest doctor, and while with her husband Mrs. Staunton was the most straightforward woman imaginable; but, alas! her character was a weak one--she was now completely under George's influence, and George had learned to walk in those crooked paths which those who begin to do wrong are always tempted to follow. He came in presently, looking particularly handsome and manly. He had on a nice new coat; and his beautifully got-up collar showed off his fresh young face to the best possible advantage. Mrs. Staunton called him up at once for Effie to criticise. "Doesn't he look well in a white silk tie?" she said. "I like white ties better than colored ones for him, and they are not so expensive either, for I can wash them myself." "I wonder all that washing does not fag you, mother," said Effie. Before Mrs. Staunton could reply, Mrs. Robinson appeared with the dinner, and the family sat down to an excellent meal. Effie saw quite plainly that it would be useless for her to attempt to expostulate. Mrs. Staunton, after her first start of unconcealed dismay, was very affectionate to her daughter. She told Effie that she thought she looked a little pale, and wondered whether all that nursing was not too much for her. "No, mother, I love the work," said Effie. "But that is not the question, my love," said Mrs. Staunton, shaking her head. "The question is this: is it undermining your health?" "Well, in any case I should have to earn my living," said Effie. "I could not possibly afford to do nothing at home. As well earn it as a nurse as in any other way, and I love nursing beyond anything else in the world." "You always were an obstinate dear little girl, was she not, George? But, after all, Effie----" Here Mrs. Staunton paused and looked at her son. "I think I might tell Effie?" she said, giving him a bright nod. "Oh, I don't suppose there is anything to make a fuss over," replied George. He colored as he spoke, and looked out of the window. He could easily hoodwink his mother, but it was difficult to meet Effie's clear eyes and not to feel sure that she was reading him through, and seeing him as he really was. Agnes jumped up, saying it was full time to go to Sunday school; she carried off the children with her, and George, his mother, and Effie were alone. "Sit down in your usual chair, George," said his mother. He did so, bringing up the port wine as he spoke, and pouring out a glass, which he insisted on his mother drinking. He tossed off one or two glasses himself, after which his eyes grew bright and steady, and a color came into his cheeks. "Yes, tell Effie," he said. "I think you might do so, George; I am so proud of you." "No, mother. I like to hear you describing me; you make me feel such an awfully fine fellow." George laughed as he spoke.