"He will have plenty of choice," she returned, with an effort at graciousness. "Oldfield is rich in pretty girls:" and she cast another approving glance at poor Nan, but Mr. Mayne interrupted her almost rudely. "Ah, as to that," he returned, with a sneer, "we want no such nonsense for Dick. Here are the facts of the case. Here is an honest, good-tempered young fellow, but with no particular push in him; he has money, you say,--yes, but not enough to give him the standing I want him to have. I am ambitious for Dick. I want him to settle in life well. Why, he might be called to the bar; he might enter Parliament; there is no limit to a man's career nowadays. I will do what I can for him, but he must meet me half-way." "You mean," observed Lady Fitzroy, with a little perplexity in her tone, "that he must look out for an heiress." She was not in the secret, and she could not understand why her host was treating her to this outburst of confidence. "It was so disagreeable to be mixed up with this sort of thing," as she told her husband afterwards. "I never knew him quite so odious before; and there was that pretty Miss Challoner sitting near us, and he never let me address a word to her." Nan began to feel she had had enough of it. She started up hastily as Lady Fitzroy said the last words, but the entrance of some more young people compelled her to stand inside a moment, and she heard Mr. Mayne's answer distinctly: "Well, not an heiress exactly; but the girl I have in view for him has a pretty little sum of money, and the connection is all that could be wished; she is nice-looking, too, and is a bright, talking little body----" But here Nan made such a resolute effort to pass, that the rest of the sentence was lost upon her. Dick, who was strolling up and down the lawn rather discontentedly, hurried up to her as she came out. "They are playing a valse; come, Nan," he said, holding out his hand to her with his usual eagerness; but she shook her head. "I cannot dance; I am too tired: there are others you ought to ask." She spoke a little ungraciously, and Dick's face wore a look of dismay, as she walked away from him with quick even footsteps. Tired! Nan tired! he had never heard of such a thing. What had put her out? The sweet brightness had died out of her eyes, and her cheeks were flaming. Should he follow her and have it out with her, there and then? But, as he hesitated, young Hamilton came over the grass and linked his arm in his. "Come and introduce me to that girl in blue gauze, or whatever you call that flimsy manufacture. Come along, there's a good fellow," he said, coaxingly; and Dick's opportunity was lost. But he was wrong; for once in her life Nan was tired; the poor girl felt a sudden quenching of her bright elasticity that amounted to absolute fatigue.