"It means _marriage_," she answered, with an outburst of temper--as far as tone might convey it. "I allude to this absurd intimacy of yours with Miss Adair. You must be intimate with the girl; your look and attitude, as I passed to-day, proved it." "And if I did mean marriage, what then?" He asked the question jokingly, laughing a little; but he was not prepared for the effect it had on his mother. Her eyes flashed fire, her lips trembled, her face turned white as death. "Marriage! With _her?_ You must be dreaming, Arthur Bohun." "Not dreaming; joking," he said, lightly. "You may be at ease, madam; I have no intention of marrying any one at present." "You must never marry Miss Adair." "No?" "Arthur Bohun, you are treating all this with mockery," she exclaimed, beginning to believe that he really was so; and the relief was great, though the tacit disrespect angered her. "How dare you imply that you could think seriously of these village girls?--only to annoy and frighten me." "You must be easily frightened to-day, madam. I don't think I did imply it. As to Miss Adair----" "Yes, as to Miss Adair," fiercely interrupted madam. "Go on." "I was about to say that, in speaking of Miss Adair, we might as well recognize her true position. It is not quite respectful to be alluding to her as a 'village girl.' She is a lady, born and bred." "Perhaps you will next say that she is equal to the Bohuns?" "I do not wish to say it. Don't you think this conversation may as well cease, madam?" added Arthur, after a short pause. "Why should it have been raised? One might suppose I had asked your consent to my marriage, whereas you know perfectly well that I am a poor man, with not the slightest chance of taking a wife." "Poor men get engaged sometimes, Arthur, thinking they will wait--and wait. Seeing you with that girl--the world calls her good-looking, I believe--I grew into an awful fright for your sake. It would be most disastrous for you to marry beneath your rank--a Bohun never holds up his head afterwards, if he does that; and I thought I ought to speak a word of warning to you. You must take a suitable wife when you do marry--one fitted to mate with the future Sir Arthur Bohun." "To mate with plain Arthur Bohun. To call me the future Sir Arthur is stretching possibility very wide indeed, madam," he added, laughing. "Not at all. You will as surely succeed as that I am telling you so. Look at that puny James Bohun! A few years at most will see the last of him." "I hope not, for his father's sake. Any way, he may live long enough to marry and leave children behind him. Is your lecture at an end, madam?" he jestingly concluded. "If so, perhaps you may as well leave me to get my coat on, or I shall have to keep dinner waiting." "I have another word," said madam; "your coat can wait. Miss Dallory dines here." "Miss Dallory! I thought she was in Switzerland. Did she come over in a balloon to dine with us?"