He interpreted her permission as applying to more than one visit; somehow or other, most days found him by the bay window, and generally, on being pressed, at leisure to come in and rest. They would chat over all manner of things together, each imparting to the other from a store of experiences strange to the listener; or together they would discuss their common friends in Meriton. She liked his shrewd and humorous wisdom; her directness and simplicity charmed him no less than the extreme prettiness of her face. "Well, Miss Flower," he said one morning, "the boys finish their speechifying to-morrow, and then they'll be more at liberty to amuse you, instead of leaving it so much to the old stagers." "And then you'll all be getting busy about the wedding. In three weeks now, isn't it?" "Just a few days over three weeks. Individually I shall be glad when it's over." "Have they done well with their speeches?" she asked. "After all my good intentions, I only went once." "They think they've made the seat absolutely safe for Harry. Parliament and marriage--the boy's taking on responsibilities!" "It seems funny, when one's just played about with them! It's a funny thing to be just one of people's amusements--off the stage as well as on it." "Oh, come!" He smiled. "Is that all you claim to be--to any of those boys?" "That's the way they look at me--in their sober moments. Except Andy; he's quite different. He's never been about town, you see. For him girls and women are all in the same class." "I was once about town myself," Belfield remarked thoughtfully. "Yes, and you take your son's view--and Billy Foot's." He smiled again, and she smiled too, meeting his glance directly. "Oh yes, Billy too--though he may have his temptations! Squarely now, Mr. Belfield, if--for the sake of argument--your son treated Miss Wellgood badly, or even Miss Vintry, it would seem a different thing from treating Sally or me badly, wouldn't it?" "You do put it pretty squarely," said Belfield, twisting his lips. "A glass of beer gives you the right to flirt with poor Miss Miles. It's supposed to be champagne with us. When you were about town--don't you remember?" "I suppose it was. It's not a tradition to be proud of." "There are compensations--which some of us like. If Sally or I behave badly, who cares? But if Miss Wellgood or Miss Vintry--! Oh, dear me, the heavens would fall in Meriton!" "By the way, I'm afraid I drive your friend away? Miss Dutton always disappears when I call." "She generally disappears when people come. Sally's shy of strangers. Well, you know, as I was saying, Andy Hayes hasn't got that tradition. I think if I ever fell in love--I never do, Mr. Belfield--I should fall in love with a man who hadn't that tradition. But they're very hard to find." "Let's suppose it's one of those thousand things that are going to change," he suggested, with his sceptical smile.