"No; May doesn't know how to sing," said Mrs. Dobbs quietly, but very decisively. (For she had caught an expression on Mr. Theodore Bransby's pale, smooth face, which seemed to wonder superciliously what on earth _she_ could know about it.) Whereupon his pale, smooth eyebrows raised themselves a hair's breadth more, but he said nothing. "My grandmother is a great judge of singing, you must know," went on May innocently. "She has heard all the best singers at the Oldchester Musical Festivals for years and years past, and she used to sing herself in the choruses of the oratorios." "Oh, I see!" said Theodore, with a little contemptuous air of enlightenment. Jo Weatherhead looked across at him uneasily. He had a half-formed suspicion that this young spark with the smooth, rather closely-cropped blonde head, severe shirt-collar, faultlessly-fitting coat, and slightly pedantic utterance, showed a tendency to treat Mrs. Dobbs with impertinence. But he checked the suspicion, for, he argued with himself, young Bransby had had the training of a gentleman. And what gentleman would be impertinent to a worthy and respected woman, and in her own house, too? He thought, as he looked at him, that Theodore bore very little resemblance to his father, Martin Bransby, who was altogether of a different and more massive type. "You don't favour your father much, sir," said Jo blandly. The young man turned his pale blue eyes upon him with a look studiously devoid of all expression. "I had the honour of knowing your worthy father well, some five-and-twenty--or it may be thirty--years ago." Theodore, continuing to stare at him stonily, said, "Oh, really?" in a low monotone. "Yes; I knew him in the way of business. He was a customer of mine when I was in the bookselling business at Brummagem, as we called it. Your father was, even at that time, very highly thought of by some of the leading legal luminaries. We had no assizes at Birmingham, as no doubt you're aware; but I used to go over to Warwick Assizes pretty reg'larly in those days, having some dealings there in the stationery line--which I afterwards gave up altogether, though that isn't to the point--and I used to frequent a good deal of legal company. Mr. Martin Bransby was thought a good deal of, among 'em, I can tell you, and was taken a great deal of notice of by some of the county families--quite the real old gentry," added Mr. Weatherhead, pursing up his mouth and nodding his head emphatically, like a man enforcing a statement which his hearers might reasonably hesitate to accept. "Oh, how is Mr. Bransby?" asked May. "Thanks; my father is going on very well indeed. He has driven out twice, and, in fact, is nearly himself again. He purposes asking some friends to dine with him next week. Indeed, that furnishes the object of my visit here. I--Mrs. Bransby--of course, you understand that my father's long illness has given her a great deal to do."