‘Or why there should be waste and destruction anywhere. Daphne will not be the first young wife who ever had to take care of a house, and I know by the way she learnt to row how easy it is to teach her anything.’ ‘Easy to teach her to row, or to ride, or to play lawn-tennis, or to do anything frivolous and useless, I have no doubt,’ retorted his mother; ‘but I don’t believe it is in her to learn careful ways, and the management of servants. I only hope the waste and destruction will stop at the house-linen. I only hope she won’t bring ruin upon you; but when I think how many a young man of good means has been utterly ruined by an extravagant wife——’ ‘Upon my word, mother,’ protested Edgar, with a dash of resentment, feeling that this was too much, ‘you are making a perfect raven of yourself, instead of being cheery and pleasant, as I expected you to be. I’m sorry I have not been able to choose a wife more to your liking as a daughter-in-law; but marriage is one of the few circumstances of life in which selfishness is a duty, and a man must please himself at any hazard of displeasing other people. I don’t believe there’s a man who was at the Hunt Ball the other night who won’t envy me my good luck.’ ‘Very likely; since men are influenced by mere outside prettiness,’ said Mrs. Turchill. ‘Though even there Daphne is by no means faultless. Her nose is too short.’ ‘Now, mother, you have been so good to me all my life that it would be a very unnatural thing if you were to begin to be unkind all at once, and in a crisis of my life in which I most need your love,’ pleaded Edgar with genuine feeling. He put his arm round his mother’s waist, which, this time, was less inflexible than before. He turned the matron’s face towards his, and, lo! her eyes were full of tears. ‘It would be very strange, indeed, if I could deny you anything,’ she said, strangling a sob. ‘There never was a child so much indulged as you were. If you had cried for the moon, it would have quite worried me that I wasn’t able to get it for you.’ ‘And you would have given me a stable-lantern instead,’ answered Edgar, smiling. ‘Yes, best of mothers, you have always been indulgent, and you are going to be indulgent now, and you will take Daphne to your heart of hearts, and be as fond of her as if she were that baby-girl you lost, grown up to womanhood.’ ‘Don’t, Edgar, don’t!’ cried Mrs. Turchill, fairly overcome. ‘Her bassinet is in the little oak room. I was looking at it yesterday. I have never got over that loss.’ ‘You will think she has come back to you some day, when you have a little granddaughter,’ said Edgar tenderly. His mother, once reduced to the pathetic mood, was perfectly tractable. Edgar petted and soothed her; protested somewhat recklessly that the chief desire of Daphne’s life was to gain her affection; announced the intended afternoon visit; and obtained his mother’s promise of a gracious reception.