"Ha, ha, ha!" Mildred’s laugh rattled about the Doctor’s ears like a shower of walnuts. "I shall certainly bring Patrine to call upon you, if her hair happens to turn peacock-green or pinky-crimson. I would not miss seeing your face for all the world! But seriously, my dear Owen, when a girl is as handsome as my girl and has no _dot_ to back her, she must make herself attractive and desirable to eligible men." "By trying to make herself look like a Parisian _cocotte_, she renders herself neither attractive nor desirable—to the kind of man whom I should like to see married to my niece. The cleanly kind of man, with wholesome tastes, a sound constitution, and an upright character." "My dear Owen, you might be composing an advertisement for a butler or a _chauffeur_!" Mildred ostentatiously controlled a yawn as the Doctor continued: "As to a provision for Patrine on her marriage, you know that I shall gladly give it. Of course, upon condition——" "Yes, yes, I know what your condition would be!" Mildred’s finger-tips, adorned with nails elaborately veneered and dyed, drummed a maddening little tattoo on the table-ledge. "That she marries the ’right kind of man, with wholesome tastes,’ and all the rest of it. The question is—would Patrine be able to endure him? She is—let us say—more than a little difficult to get on with—and essentially an independent, up-to-date girl." "If Patrine would have subdued her ideas about independence and given up this idea of taking a place as salaried companion, I would have welcomed her, and so would my wife!" "Patrine is—as you are very well aware—something very different to a mere companion. She is reader and secretary to Lady Beauvayse. Her Club subscription is paid, she moves there amongst gentlewomen, and is treated at Berkeley Square exactly like a favoured guest. You should see the presents Lady Beauvayse absolutely showers upon her—and she gets all her expenses and a hundred a year." Saxham was silent. Patrine might have had all this and much more, if she would have accepted the home he offered. Not only because she was his niece, but the girl was dear to him. His wife loved her, and in her strange, wild way Patrine returned some measure of Lynette’s tenderness. "She is worth loving," Lynette had told her husband. "She has a generous, brave, independent nature and a deep heart. She is not easily won because she is so well worth winning. Ah! if the Mother were only with us, how well she would understand and help Patrine!" But Mildred had risen to depart. Saxham rose too, not without alacrity, and taking her offered hand, pressed it and let it fall to her side.