Nan made some excuse, shook hands with him, and went. She walked home hurriedly, she knew not why; it almost seemed as though she wanted to leave something well behind her. And she was very kind to her sisters for the remainder of that day; but somewhat grave. Meanwhile, Madge's letter to her married sister in London had been sent. And the first answer to it was contained in a postscript to a letter addressed by Mary Beresford to her mother. This was the postscript:-- '_What is this nonsense Madge writes to me about herself and Holford King? Has Captain King got it into his head that he would like to marry his deceased wife's sister?_' Lady Beresford threw the letter aside with a sigh, wishing people would not write in conundrums. CHAPTER XVII. THE ACCEPTED SUITOR. 'Oh, Nan, here is the cab. What shall I say to him? What am I to say to him?' 'I think you ought to know yourself, dear,' said Nan, gently, and then she slipped away from the room, leaving Madge alone and standing at the window. But after all it was not so serious a matter. Some one came into the room, and Madge turned. 'May I call you Madge?' said he, holding both her hands. She answered, with her eyes cast down-- 'I suppose I must call you Frank.' That was all, for at the same moment Mr. Tom was heard calling to his mother and sisters that Captain King had arrived; and directly after, Lady Beresford and Edith entered the room, followed by Mr. Tom, who was declaring that they must have dinner put forward to six o'clock, if they were all to go to the pantomime. There was a little embarrassment--not much. Frank King kept looking towards the door. He wondered why Nan had not come with the others. He was curious to see how much she had changed. Perhaps he should not even recognise her? Without scarcely knowing why, he was hoping she might not be quite like the Nan of former days. Mr. Tom consulted his watch again. 'Shall I ring and tell them to hurry on dinner, mother?' 'We cannot alter the dinner hour now,' Lady Beresford said, plaintively. 'It has already been altered once. Both Mr. Roberts and Mr. Jacomb promised to come at half-past six, so that you might all go to the pantomime together in good time.' 'What?' cried Mr. Tom. 'Jacomb? Did you say Jacomb, mother?' 'I said Mr. Roberts and Mr. Jacomb,' said his mother. 'And what the etcetera is he doing in that gallery!' exclaimed Mr. Tom. 'Well, I guess we shall have a high old time of it at dinner. Soda-water and incense. But there's one thing they always agree about. Get them on to port-wine vintages, and they run together like a brace of greyhounds.' Here Captain King begged to be excused, as there was but little time for him to go along to his hotel and get dressed for this early dinner. When--being accompanied to the door by Mr. Tom himself--he had left, Madge said-- 'How do you like him, mamma? Are you pleased with him?'