"I know; but then I have nothing of my own, nothing at all, except what my dear old father allows me. I ought not to think about the girls-- about either of them." Mrs Fortescue paused to consider. "I don't know that you ought," she said. She had her own ideas for her young charges, and Lieutenant Reid, a native of Langdale, would bring no special credit to her management. People would say that it was a pretty romance; the girl and the young man met when they were still children. But that was all they could say about a young and beautiful heiress marrying a penniless man. After a pause, she said-- "You have not really confided in me, and, of course, if there is true and passionate and real love, I am the last person to stand in the way; but without it I think both those young girls ought to have their chances." Mrs Fortescue spoke with precision and reserve. Reid thought her a tiresome woman, and hoped sincerely that some one else would chaperone the girls when they first went to London. His intention, however, was to secure Florence before that date. He thought he had already made an impression on her, and if Mrs Fortescue did not help him, Susie Arbuthnot would. Susie was the very soul of romance. Behind Susie's red face shone a soul, the kindest and most chivalrous in the world; and Susie's true heart beat for all that she considered true in love and bravery. A man must be brave, and a man must be loving. That was all she considered necessary, and surely Lieutenant Reid, the young man she had known from a boy, possessed these two attributes. Yes, he would give up Mrs Fortescue, and consult Susie on the subject of Florence Heathcote. Accordingly, he declined tea, although some special hot cakes were being made for him in the kitchen, and went away holding his head very high and looking, as Mrs Fortescue said to herself, "quite distinguished." "I must be careful not to allow my dear Florence to see too much of him," she said to herself. "It would never do for her to fall in love with him before she has seen other men." Reid strolled about in the neighbourhood of the Arbuthnots' house until, as it were quite by accident, he came across the merry girls and equally merry Miss Arbuthnot returning home from their walk. They were carrying sprays of holly and quantities of mistletoe, and looked each one of them, in her own way, quite charming. Reid fell naturally to Florence's share, and Brenda and Susie walked on in front. When they got to the front door, Susie invited "dear Captain Reid" to come in and have tea with them, and dear Captain Reid accepted the invitation with alacrity. "It is so funny," said Florence, "to hear her invariably call you `Captain': and you never correct her; why don't you?" "Because I like the sound," he answered. "I shall be Captain, I hope, before long; and I like it, for your sake." "For my sake?" she said, colouring faintly.