It was as if, jocosely enough, he had had time to make up his mind how to meet her. “What will you have--when he loved my mother?” Nothing could have been droller than the gloom of her surprise. “Yours too?” “I didn’t tell you the other day--out of delicacy.” Mrs. Brookenham darkly thought. “HE didn’t tell me either.” “The same consideration deterred him. But if I didn’t speak of it,” Vanderbank continued, “when I arranged with you, after meeting him here at dinner, that you should come to tea with him at my rooms--if I didn’t mention it then it wasn’t because I hadn’t learnt it early.” Mrs. Brook more deeply sounded this affair, but she spoke with the exaggerated mildness that was the form mostly taken by her gaiety. “It was because of course it makes him out such a wretch! What becomes in that case of his loyalty?” “To YOUR mother’s memory? Oh it’s all right--he has it quite straight. She came later. Mine, after my father’s death, had refused him. But you see he might have been my stepfather.” Mrs. Brookenham took it in, but she had suddenly a brighter light. “He might have been my OWN father! Besides,” she went on, “if his line is to love the mothers why on earth doesn’t he love ME? I’m in all conscience enough of one.” “Ah but isn’t there in your case the fact of a daughter?” Vanderbank asked with a slight embarrassment. Mrs. Brookenham stared. “What good does that do me?” “Why, didn’t she tell you?” “Nanda? She told me he doesn’t like her any better than he likes me.” Vanderbank in his turn showed surprise. “That’s really what she said?” “She had on her return from your rooms a most unusual fit of frankness, for she generally tells me nothing.” “Well,” said Vanderbank, “how did she put it?” Mrs. Brook reflected--recovered it. “‘I like him awfully, but I am not in the least HIS idea.’” “His idea of what?” “That’s just what I asked her. Of the proper grandchild for mamma.” Vanderbank hesitated. “Well, she isn’t.” Then after another pause: “But she’ll do.” His companion gave him a deep look. “You’ll make her?” He got up, and on seeing him move Mr. Longdon also rose, so that, facing each other across the room, they exchanged a friendly signal or two. “I’ll make her.” III