"Of course he did; that's just it. Your father knows nothing about this sort of thing. It all falls upon me. If Annie Maurice were to make a _mésalliance_, or, without going so far as that, were to permit herself to be engaged to some penniless fortune-hunter, and were to refuse--as she very likely would, for she has an amount of obstinacy in her composition, I am inclined to think, which one very seldom finds--to listen to the remonstrances of those whose opinion ought to have weight with her, it is I, not your father, who would be blamed by the world." "Your troubles certainly seem greater, mother, than I, in my bachelor ignorance, could have imagined." "They are not comprehensible, even after my explanation, Arthur, by those who have not to undergo them. There is scarcely any thing in my married life which has given me such pleasure as the thought that, having no daughters, I should be relieved of all duties of chaperonage; that I should not be compelled to go to certain places unless I wished; and that I should be able to leave others at what hours I liked. And now I find this very duty incumbent upon me." "Well, but, my dear mother, surely Annie is the very last girl in the world for whom it is necessary to make any such sacrifices. She does not care about going out; and when out, she seems, from all she says to me, to have only one anxiety, and that is--to get home again as soon as possible." "Ay, from all she says to you, Arthur; but then you know, as Ive said before, you are a regular old bachelor, without the power of comprehending these things, and to whom a girl certainly would not be likely to show her real feelings. No; there's only one way to relieve me from my responsibility." "And that is--" "And that is by getting her married." "A-ah!" Caterham drew a long breath--it was coming now. "Married," continued Lady Beauport, "to some one whom we know, and in whom we could trust; some one who would keep her near us, so that we could still keep up an interest in her; and you--for I know how very much attached you are to her, Arthur--could see her constantly, without trouble to yourself. That is the only manner in which I can see a conclusion to my anxiety on Annie's account." Lady Beauport endeavoured to speak in the same tone in which she had commenced the conversation; but there was a quiver in her voice and a tremulous motion in her hands which showed Caterham plainly that she was ill at ease. "And do you think that such a husband would be easily found for Annie, mother?" said he, looking up at her with one of his steady piercing glances from under his eyebrows. "Not easily, of course; but still to be found, Arthur." "From your manner, you seem to have already given the subject some attention. May I ask if you have any one in prospect who would fulfil all the conditions you have laid down in the first place, and in the second would be likely to be acceptable to Annie?"