She expounded eloquently on Mr. West’s enormities, the vast sums expended on his daughter, the fact that “but for them she would be friendless and homeless--probably begging from door to door. The wretched swindler was dead, the girl had no relatives or friends, and only for their charity----” Here she paused impressively, expecting Mr. Wynne to fill up the blank, with some neat and appropriate speech; but, for once, she was doomed to disappointment. “Only for your charity she would be a governess, would she not?” he remarked carelessly. “With such musical talents she is sure of a lucrative situation--a hundred or so a year. But, of course, under _your_ roof she has all that she can wish for--a happy home, among her old companions--and any one can see with half an eye that Mrs. Harper is a mother to her,” he concluded with immovable features. Miss Selina started and became of a yet richer shade of crimson. This idea of a governess, at one hundred pounds a year, was something entirely novel. The girl was clever and accomplished! Was Mr. Wynne speaking ironically, when he alluded to a mother’s care and a happy home? Impossible! His face was as unmoved, his eyes as smiling, his manner as sociable and friendly as usual. It was a wild, foolish idea, and she immediately dismissed it from her mind, and plunged into a discussion on platonic friendships--and a second helping of a most excellent truffle. Mr. Wynne managed to have a few words with Mrs. Wolferton after supper. He stated his case concisely, pointed out Miss West, and strongly commended her to the kind lady’s notice. Mrs. Wolferton was the mother of Fred (Mr. Wynne’s schoolfellow, college friend, and chum), and was very fond of Laurence, whom she had known from the time when he was an audacious boy in jacket upwards. As she listened to the sorry history of pretty Miss West, her motherly heart was touched, and she immediately begged to be introduced to her. “Remembered her well,” she declared, “from last year. Hoped she would come and see her during the holidays.” And, finally, being a woman who believed in deeds as well as _words_, took off her gloves, removed a jingling bracelet, and seated herself at the piano for the remainder of the night, in spite of Mrs. Harper’s horrified face and excited expostulations, saying pleasantly to Madeline, “Now, my dear, my dancing days are over; yours are just beginning. Go and dance, Laurence; Miss West has not danced a step this evening.” The hint was superfluous. Already Laurence and Miss West were at the other end of the room, and already a very portentous frown had settled deep on Miss Selina’s brow; but it availed nothing. The two offenders were dauntless.