To-night all this was changed; he was a new man to her to-night; she felt drawn to him very closely. She tried to say something in answer to his last speech, but even as the words trembled on her lips Haverford spoke on in his usual quiet way. "When I do start on my travels I think I shall bequeath the care of my motors to you, Mrs. Brenton. Though you hate them, I know you are too tender-hearted to ill-treat them." She laughed, falling in with his change of mood. "I will take care of them if you will promise to come back. You must come back," she said, "and marry, and go into Parliament, and generally settle down." "Yes, I suppose I shall marry some day," Haverford answered. He had passed away entirely from that touch of emotion; indeed, his eyes twinkled. "Marriage is about the one occupation that my change of fortune has suggested to me from the very commencement. But I am not in a hurry," he added. "Do you know why I like you, Mrs. Brenton?" he said all at once. She shook her head. "I am only too glad that you do like me," she answered, with a smile. "I don't seek to know the cause." "Well, you appeal to me for many reasons," said Rupert Haverford, "but particularly because you are about the only woman I know who has not insisted on finding me a wife. It is such an absurd idea if one stops to think about it," he said lightly; "one chooses one's own servants, one does not go running about to one's friends to ask them if a particular man is likely to be a good coachman or butler or gardener; but in the matter of a wife everybody seems to consider that he or she has a right to choose for another person." Mrs. Brenton smiled, but only faintly. "I believe I am just as bad at match-making as most people," she said; "you must not endow me with unknown qualities." They drifted into silence after this. It was pleasant to Rupert Haverford to sit and watch Mrs. Brenton's comely hands busying themselves with the knitting. She wore a few good rings, but for the rest her gown was old-fashioned, not to say shabby, and she had no other jewellery except an insignificant brooch or two. He was quite in earnest when he said that she was the one person out of all his new acquaintances whom he liked the best. There was something so thorough about her. He could quite believe the stories of her prowess as a sportswoman and a hard rider to hounds; and yet she was very womanly. It gave him an extraordinary sense of pleasure to-night to realize that she was Camilla Lancing's friend, and that she had a tender and even an anxious interest in the woman about whom he was struggling with himself; the woman who at once tempted and repelled him. He smoked his cigar through, and then after a little desultory conversation he rose and said "Good night." "Pray tell Mrs. Lancing that my motor is at her disposal if she cares to use it to-morrow," he said, "I don't think she need fear another breakdown." "You won't use it yourself?" Mrs. Brenton asked.