"Nothing like taking time by the forelock, don't you know," he said to himself. "Old girl evidently wants me for a son-in-law, and that fellow Melton is a doosed sight too attentive. I can see through it all, though. Old girl keeps him here to make play and draw me on. Artful, doosed artful, don't you know. But it don't matter; suits my book. Time I did marry and settle down. Maude Diphoos is a doosed handsome girl, and'll do me credit. I'll propose at once." He mused thus in his bedroom, where he gave a few finishing touches to his morning toilet, and then descending to the drawing-room, he was most affectionately received by her ladyship, who took his arm, and they strolled out through the conservatory into the garden. "Such delightful weather!" said her ladyship, leaning upon his arm more heavily than was pleasant to a man in tight boots, and rather weak upon his legs. "Charming," said Sir Grantley. "By the way, Lady Barmouth, we are very great friends, you and I, don't you know." "Indeed, yes," said her ladyship. "I always feel disposed to call you by your Christian name--Grantley--" "Do," said the baronet, having a little struggle with his eye-glass--a new one of rather smaller diameter than the last--which he had lost--and which would not consent to stop in its place--"Do--like it. Fact is, Lady Barmouth, I have made up my mind to be married, don't you know." "You have? Really!" cried her ladyship. "I am glad;" and she adroitly turned their steps down the lilac walk in place of going straight to the croquet lawn. "Fact, I assure you," continued Sir Grantley. "It is only quite lately that I have seen any one whom I should like to make Lady Wilters; and now--" "You are hopelessly in love," said her ladyship; showing him her hundred guinea set of teeth--patent mineral, and of pearly whiteness, her best set--down to the false gums. "Oh, you young people in the days of your romance. It is too delightful in spite of its regrets for us who are in the sere and yellow leaf." Her ladyship, by the way, was very little older than Sir Grantley, and art had made her look the younger of the two, especially as, in spite of the allusions to the yellow leaf, her ladyship's plump skin was powdered into a state of peach bloom. "Thanks, much," said Sir Grantley, wincing a little from tight boots, and greeting with delight their approach to a garden seat. "Shall we sit down?" "Oh, by all means," cried her ladyship; and they took their places under the lilac which bloomed profusely over their heads. "And now," exclaimed Lady Barmouth, with sparkling eyes and another sweet smile to show her hundred guinea teeth, while the plump face was covered with innocent dimples, "tell me, who is the dear girl?" "Yas," said Sir Grantley, clearing his throat, and feeling decidedly better, "yas." He paused, and wiped his heated brow with a scented handkerchief. "Now this is too bad," said her ladyship, playfully. "You are teasing me."