'Where are you going?' I asked as I saw her moving towards the door. 'I am going to see if there is a letter from Fabian to say when he is coming. I saw Tim come up the avenue with the papers.' 'But Fabian can't know himself yet!' I objected. However that might be, she was gone, leaving me to a consideration of the brilliant ability I had shown in match-making, both for myself and my friends. CHAPTER XXIV When I joined Mrs. Ellmer and her daughter that evening, I found that the former lady was oppressed by the conviction that 'something had happened,' something interesting of which there was an evil design abroad to keep her in ignorance. She had been questioning Babiole I felt sure, and getting no satisfactory replies; for while there was a suspicious halo of pale rose-colour--which in my sight did not detract from her beauty--about the younger lady's eyes, her mother made various touching references to the cruelty of want of confidence, and at last, after several tentative efforts, got on the right track by observing that my 'young lady' was not very exacting, since I had not been near her that day. This remark set both her daughter and me blushing furiously, and Mrs. Ellmer, figuratively speaking, gave the 'view halloo.' After a very short run I was brought to earth, and confessed that--er--Miss Farington and I--er--had had a--in fact a disagreement--a mere lover's quarrel. It would soon blow over--but just at present--that is for a day or two, why---- Mrs. Ellmer interrupted my laboured explanation with a delighted and shrill little giggle. 'And so you've had a quarrel! Well, really, Mr. Maude, as an old friend, you must allow me to take this opportunity--before you make it up again, you know--to tell you that really I think you are throwing yourself away.' The truth was that the poor little woman had been smarting, ever since Miss Farington's visit, from the supercilious scorn with which that well-informed young lady had treated her. I protested, but very mildly; for, indeed, to hear a little gentle disapprobation of my late too matter-of-fact love gave me no acute pain. 'I wouldn't for the world have said anything before, you know, for if, of course, a person's love affairs are not his own business, whose are they? But having known you so long, I really must say, now that I can open my lips without indiscretion, that the moment I saw that stuck-up piece of affectation I said to myself: "She must have asked him!"'