"If Sheila had fancied it to be her duty, she would have come here at any cost." "What do you mean, Mr. Ingram?" said Mrs. Lavender severely. "Well, supposing she didn't like you--" he was beginning to say cautiously, when she sharply interrupted him: "She didn't like me, eh?" "I said nothing of the kind. I was about to say that if she had thought it her duty to come here, she would have come in any circumstances." "She might have done worse. A young woman risks a great deal in running away from her husband's home. People will talk. Who is to make people believe just the version of the story that the husband or wife would prefer?" "And what does Sheila care," said Ingram with a hot flush in his face, "for the belief of a lot of idle gossips and slanderers?" "My dear Mr. Ingram," said the old lady, "you are not a woman, and you don't know the bother one has to look after one's reputation. But that is a question not likely to interest you. Let us talk of something else. Do you know why I wanted you to come and see me to-day?" "I am sure I don't." "I mean to leave you all my money." He stared. She did not appear to be joking. Was it possible that her rage against her nephew had carried her to this extreme resolve? "Oh!" he stammered, "but I won't have it, Mrs. Lavender." "But you'll have to have it," said the little old woman severely. "You are a poor man. You could make good use of my money--better than a charity board that would starve the poor with a penny out of each shilling, and spend the other elevenpence in treating their friends to flower-shows and dinners. Do you think I mean to leave my money to such people? You shall have it. I think you would look very well driving a mail-phaeton in the Park; and I suppose you would give up your pipes and your philosophy and your bachelor walks into the country. You would marry, of course: every man is bound to make a fool of himself that way as soon as he gets enough money to do it with. But perhaps you might come across a clever and sensible woman, who would look after you and give you your own way while having her own. Only don't marry a fool. Whatever you do, don't marry a fool, or all your philosophers won't make the house bearable to you." "I am not likely to marry anybody, Mrs. Lavender," said Ingram carelessly. "Is there no woman you know whom you would care to marry?" "Oh," he said, "there is one woman--yes--who seems to me about everything that a man could wish, but the notion of my marrying her is absurd. If I had known in time, don't you see, that I should ever think of such a thing, I should have begun years ago to dye my hair. I can't begin now. Gray hair inspires reverence, I believe, but it is a bad thing to go courting with."