'I don't like girls to betray emotion on every frivolous occasion; it is bad form, you know.' Frivolous occasion! thought Chute, receiving the last relics and mementoes of her husband from the comrade in whose arms he died, and who commanded the funeral party that fired over him. 'She has begun to mope more horribly than ever during the last few days; but if I take her down to the country, she becomes more dull than ever, or goes in for parochial work--bad style of things, I think--blankets and coals--Dorcas meetings--and helps the rector's wife in matters of soup and psalm-singing.' Indeed, if the truth were known, Sir Carnaby Collingwood was not ill pleased by Beverley's death, all things considered. Ida's jointure was most ample--even splendid--and she had no little heir to attend to. To be the father of these grown-up girls was bad enough, he thought; but to have been a 'grandfather' would prove the culmination of horror to the would-be youthful beau of sixty. His own lover and romance, if he ever had any--which may be doubted--were put by and forgotten years ago, and he never dreamed that others might indulge in such dreams apart from the prose of life. From his school-days he had been petted, pampered, and caressed by wealth and fortune, so much so that he was actually ignorant of human wants, ailments, or sufferings. Hence his utter callousness and indifference in such a matter as Trevor Chute's love for Clare, or her love for Chute. Though his dead wife, a fair and gentle creature, who was the antitype of Ida, and had been quite as lovely, loved him well, he had married her without an atom of affection, to suit the views of his family and her own. Hence it was that, as we have shown, he could talk in the manner he did to his two guests--men whose past relations with his own household were of a nature so delicate, and to be approached with difficulty; yet, had anyone accused Sir Carnaby of want of tact or taste, or more than all of ill-breeding, he would have been filled with astonishment. But the ill-breeding shown by Sir Carnaby simply resulted from a total want of feeling, good taste, and perception. Thus it was that he could coolly expatiate to Chute on the good qualities of Desmond, adding, 'You'll be glad to hear of my girl's welfare and expectations; he'll be a peer, you know, some of these days; and to poor Jerry Vane upon Ida's grief for the loss of her husband, _his_ rival. Then, while smoothing his dyed moustache with a dainty girl-like handkerchief, all perfume and point, with a Collingwood crest in the corner thereof, he would continue in this fashion: