"Bad manners to _you_ then, Hamish, for speaking such a word!" burst forth Roland. "Annabel a tyrant! You'll tell me I'm a Mormon next! She's the sweetest-tempered girl in the world; she's meek and gentle and friendless here, and so that woman puts upon her. You used to snub her at home when she was a child; _they_ snub her here: but there's not one of the lot of you fit to tie her shoe. There." Roland backed against the wall in dudgeon, and stood there, pulling at his whiskers. Hamish enjoyed these moods of Roland's beyond everything; they were so genuine. "And if I were getting on as my father's son ought to be, with a decent home, and a few hundreds to keep it up, it's not long she should be left to the mercy of any of you, I can tell you that, Mr. Channing." Hamish Channing's laugh was interrupted by Mrs. Bede Greatorex--"that woman" as Roland had just disrespectfully called her. Mr. and Mrs. Channing had been slowly threading their way to her, a difficult matter from the impeding crowd. She welcomed them with both hands. Hamish, a favourite of hers, was the courtly, sunny Hamish as of yore; making the chief attraction of whatever society he might happen to be in. "I am very glad to see you; but I wonder you like to show your face to me," said Mrs. Bede. "What is my offence?" enquired Hamish. "As if you need ask! I don't think you've been to one of my gatherings for three months. If it were not for your wife. I'd leave off sending you cards, sir." "It was my wife's doings to come this evening; she dragged me out," answered saucy Hamish. "You've no idea how she pats upon a fellow, Mrs. Greatorex." Ellen laughed. "The real truth is, Mrs. Greatorex, that he was a little less pressed for work than usual, and came of his own accord." "That horrid work!" spoke Mrs. Bede. "You are a slave to it." "Wait until my fortune's made," said Hamish. "That will be when your book's out!" "Oh yes, of course." The answer was given banteringly. But a slight hectic came into his face, his voice unconsciously took a deeper tone. Heaven alone knew what that anticipated book already was to his spirit. "When will it be finished?" "It is finished." "How glad you must be!" concluded Mrs. Bede. The evening went on. Roland kept his place against the wall, looking as if everybody were his natural enemy. On the whole, Roland did not like soirées; there was no room for his elbows; and the company never seemed to be in their natural manners; rather on artificial stilts. Having come out to this one for the specific purpose of meeting Annabel, Roland could but regard the disappointment in the light of a personal wrong, and resent it accordingly.