"He is a friend of Jane Mullins's," said mother. "But, mother, how can that be? He is not really a friend of Jane Mullins's. Honest little Jane belongs essentially to the people. You have only to look from one face to the other to see what a wide gulf there is between them. He is accustomed to good society; he is a man of the world. Mother, I am certain he is keeping something to himself. I cannot understand why he lives here. Why should he live here?" "He likes it," answered mother. "He enjoys his many conversations with me. He likes the neighbourhood. He says Bloomsbury is far more healthy than Mayfair." "Mother, dear, is it likely that such a man would think much about his health." "I am sorry you are prejudiced against him," said mother, and a fretful quaver came into her voice. "Well," she added, "I am glad the day is fine, we shall enjoy our little expedition this evening." "But are you sure it won't be too much for you?" "Too much! I am so wanting to go," said mother. "Then that is right, and I am delighted." "By the way," continued mother, "I had a note this morning from Mr. Randolph; he wants us to dine with him first at the Hotel Cecil." "Mother!" "Yes, darling; is there any objection?" "Oh, I don't like it," I continued; "why should we put ourselves under an obligation to him?" "I do not think, Westenra, you need be afraid; if I think it right to go you need have no scruples." "Of course I understand that," I answered, "and if it were any one else I should not think twice about it. If the Duchess, for instance, asked us to dine with her, and if she took us afterwards to the theatre I should quite rejoice, but I am puzzled about Mr. Randolph." "Prejudiced, you mean, dear; but never mind, you are young. As long as you have me with you, you need have no scruples. I have written a line to him to say that we will be pleased to dine with him. He is to meet us at the hotel, and is sending a carriage for us here. I own I shall be very glad once in a way to eat at a table where Mrs. Armstrong is not." "I have always tried to keep Mrs. Armstrong out of your way, mother." "Yes, darling; but she irritates me all the same. However, she is a good soul, and I must learn to put up with her. Now then, West, what will you wear to-night?" "Something very quiet," I answered. "One of your white dresses." "I have only white silk, that is too much." "You can make it simpler; you can take away ornaments and flowers. I want to see you in white again. I am perfectly tired of that black dress which you put on every evening." I left mother soon afterwards, and the rest of the day proceeded in the usual routine. I would not confess even to myself that I was glad I was going to the Lyceum with Mr. Randolph and mother, but when I saw a new interest in her face and a brightness in her voice, I tried to be pleased on her account. After all, she was the one to be considered. If it gave her pleasure it was all as it should be.