“Three cheers for the missus” indeed! It remained to be seen, the old lady said to herself, who _was_ mistress at Pear-tree House. _Two_ couldn’t be, that was very clear; but if Mrs. John fancied that _she_ was going to “knock under,” why all that she could say was, that that young woman would find herself pretty considerably mistaken. CHAPTER XI. BETWEEN TWO STOOLS. “Do any of you happen to know when Arthur is going to be married?” The question was Lady Millicent’s, and she asked it of her three younger children one day towards the end of May, when Arthur was absent for a few days in London, and the family dinner--not a very lively one--had been just concluded. The servants--two of them in plush and powder, with their chief in all the dignity of a white tie and glittering studs--had left the room, and milady, looking as usual fat, fair, and comfortable in her dark dress, a little _passée de mode_, ensconced her double chin within the palm of her puffy white hand, and quietly awaited a response. The girls from either side of the richly-furnished table glanced furtively at each other, and Horace, who was feeling especially bright, in consequence of having that day received the long-looked-for notification that his examination would take place in the following week, tapped his fingers lightly against the mahogany table, with an assumed air of taking no interest in the question. He was seated in his brother’s place, a half smile--a smile in which there was much latent satire--playing over his intelligent face. Probably Lady Millicent’s real or affected interest in her son’s proceedings rather amused than disturbed him. “Can’t anyone answer?” said Lady Millicent, who, like all great people, had an objection to being kept waiting, and who was apt to be what is vulgarly called “put out” by any apparent absence of obsequious respect. “It doesn’t give much trouble to say either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and Arthur is so extremely mysterious that I am unfortunately obliged to address myself to others for information.” “I think it depends a good deal on his coming of age,” said Horace, who, in spite of a certain vein of cynicism which occasionally gave bitterness to his words, was sincerely attached to his brother, and ever ready to give him a helping hand. “I don’t suppose that old Dub will make any objection to its being a case of no settlements on _our_ side--he’s such an uncommon liberal old fellow; but, as Atty says,--and upon my word I think he’s right,--it is awfully disgusting to owe everything to a woman.”