‘Indeed, I do not. She was with me yesterday afternoon, and I thought her looking ill and unhappy. I felt sure there was something wrong. ‘Now you look here, Mrs. Dulcimer,’ said the widower. ‘I’m not going to offer myself to that young woman a second time, for the sake of getting a second refusal; but if you are sure she won’t say no I don’t mind giving her another chance. I’m not a proud man, but I’ve got a proper respect for myself, and I don’t want to be humiliated. I shan’t ask her again unless I’m very sure of my ground.’ ‘Come and take tea with us to-morrow evening,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘I’ll get Bella to come too, and you’ll be able to judge for yourself. Bring some of your dear children.’ ‘Thank you, mum, you’re very kind; but I think until some of the Turk has been flogged out of them I’d rather not take them into company. But I’ll come myself with pleasure, and if you like to ask Bella Scratchell I’ve no objection to meet her.’ Mr. Piper’s olive branches now appeared, newly washed and combed, and in their Sunday clothes. Thus attired they looked a little more vulgar than in their every-day garments. They were all angles and sharp lines, and looked embarrassed by their finery, which, from the corkscrew curls at the top of their heads to the tight new shoes upon their afflicted feet, was more or less calculated to give them pain. Naturally Mrs. Dulcimer pretended to be enraptured with them. She discovered in one an extraordinary likeness to his papa, in another a striking--yes, a painfully striking resemblance to her poor dear mamma. She asked them questions about their studies and recreations, and having completely exhausted herself in less than ten minutes’ performance of these civilities, she rose to wish Mr. Piper and his young family good-bye. ‘At seven to-morrow, remember,’ she said. ‘I shall be there, mum,’ answered Mr. Piper. CHAPTER II. MR. PIPER IS ACCEPTED. MRS. DULCIMER’S tea party was a success. Bella appeared in her prettiest muslin gown--an embroidered Indian muslin that Beatrix had given her, with a great deal besides, when she went into mourning. She wore blue ribbons, and was bright with all the colour and freshness of her young beauty. Mr. Piper felt himself very far gone as he sat opposite her at tea. He hardly knew what he was eating, though he was a man who usually considered his meals a serious part of life, and though Rebecca had surpassed herself in the preparation of a chicken salad. The evening was lovely, the sunset a study for Turner, and after tea Mrs. Dulcimer took Mr. Piper into the garden to show him her famous roses. Once there the worthy manufacturer was trapped. Bella was in faithful attendance upon the Vicar’s wife, and presently Rebecca came, flushed and breathless, to say that her mistress was wanted; whereupon, with many apologies, Mrs. Dulcimer left Mr. Piper and Miss Scratchell together. ‘Bella can show you the rest of the garden,’ she said as she hurried off.