When his mother told him she would be hard to please, Dick looked a little wicked, and thought of Nan; but the name was not mentioned between them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Mayne felt with unerring maternal instinct that, in spite of his youth, Dick's choice was made, and sighed to herself at the thought of the evil days that were to come. Poor woman, she was to have little peace that night! Hardly had Dick finished his grumble and sauntered away, before her husband's step was heard in his dressing-room. "Bessie," he called out to her, "why do you allow that boy to keep you up so late at night? Do you know that it is eleven, and you are still fully dressed?" "Is it so late, Richard?" "Yes, of course," he snapped; "but that is the care you take of your health; and the way you cosset and spoil that boy is dreadful." "I don't think Dick is easily spoiled," plucking up a little spirit to answer him. "That shows how little you understand boys," returned her husband. Evidently the whiskey, though it was the best Glenlivat, had failed to mollify him. It might be dangerous to go too far with Dick, for he had a way of turning around and defending himself that somewhat embarrassed Mr. Mayne, but with his wife there would be no such danger. He would dominate her by his sharp speeches, and reduce her to abject submission in a moment, for Bessie was the meekest of wives. "Take care how you side with him," he continued, in a threatening voice. "He thinks that I am not serious in what I said just now, and is for carrying it off with a high hand; but I tell you, and you had better tell him, that I was never more in earnest in my life. I won't have one of those Challoner girls for a daughter-in-law!" "Oh, Richard! and Nan is such a sweet girl!" returned his wife, with tears in her eyes. She was awfully jealous of Nan, at times she almost dreaded her; but for her boy's sake she would have taken her now to her heart and defied even her formidable husband. "She is such a pretty creature, too; no one can help loving her." "Pshaw!" returned her husband; "pretty creature indeed! that is just your soft-hearted nonsense. Phillis is ten times prettier, and has heaps more sense. Why couldn't Dick have taken a fancy to her?" "Because I am afraid he cares for the other one," returned Mrs. Mayne, sadly. She had no wish to deceive her husband and she knew that the golden apple had rolled to Nan's feet. "Stuff and rubbish!" he responded, wrathfully. "What is a boy of his age to know about such things? Tell him from me to put this nonsense out of his head for the next year or two; there is plenty of time to look out for a wife after that. But I won't have him making up his mind until he has left Oxford." And Mrs. Mayne, knowing that her husband had spoken his last word, thankfully withdrew, feeling that in her heart she secretly agreed with him. CHAPTER IV. DICK'S FETE.