"I hardly know. Luck, I fancy--and the colonel--did it. The old boy, you see, has a weakness for me which I return by having a weakness for the old boy's daughter. Mother"--languidly--"may I marry the old boy's daughter? She is an extremely pretty little girl, young, with fifteen thousand pounds; but I would not like to engage myself to her without your full consent." Mother laughs and passes her hand with a light caressing gesture over his charming face. "Conceited boy!" she murmurs, fondly; "there is little chance you will ever do so much good for yourself." "Don't be too sure. At all events, I have your consent?" "Yes, and my blessing, too," says mother, laughing again. "Thanks. Then I'll turn it over in my mind when I go back." "Roly," I break in with my accustomed graciousness, "what brought you?" "The train and an overpowering desire to see Dora's young man." A laugh and a blush from Dora. "I met him just now," I say, "down by the trout-river. What a pity he did not come home with me, to satisfy your curiosity without delay!" "Mother, do you think it the correct thing for Phyllis to keep clandestine appointments with her brother-in-law? Dora, is it possible you do not scent mischief in the air? A person, too, of Phyllis's well-known attractions---" "What was he doing at the trout-river?" asks Dora, with a smile. She is too secure in the knowledge of her own beauty to dread a rival anywhere, least of all in _me_. "Nothing, as far as I could see. He talked a little, and said he was coming here next Friday." "The day after to-morrow. I shall ask him his intentions," says Roly. "It is most fortunate I am on the spot. One should never let an affair of this kind _drag_. It will doubtless be a thankless task; but I make a point of never shirking duty; and when we have put our beloved father comfortably under ground---" "Roland," interrupts mother, in a shocked tone. There is a pause. "I quite thought you were going to say something," says Roland, amiably. "I was mistaken. I will therefore continue. When we have put our beloved father well under the ground I will then be head of this house, and natural guardian to these poor dear girls and, with this prospect in view, I feel even at the present moment a certain responsibility, that compels me to look after their interests and bring this recreant gallant to book." "Roland, my dear, I wish you would not speak so of your father," puts in mamma, feebly. "Very well, I won't," returns Roly; "and he shan't be put under ground at all, if you don't wish it. Cremation shall be his fate, and we shall keep his precious ashes in an urn." "I don't believe Mr. Carrington cares a pin for Dora," says Billy, irrevelantly. "I think he likes Phyllis twice as well." This remark, though intended to do so, does _not_ act as a bombshell in the family circle; it is regarded as a mere flash in the pan from Billy, and is received with silent contempt. What could a boy know about such matters?