"Oh _dear_, no," I replied emphatically and truthfully, though nevertheless something in her inquiry made me blush a little--not with any consciousness of a word, or the shadow of a word, having been said by the Paynes of the kind she alluded to, but because I knew I _had_ secret cause for "sedateness," as Lady Bretton called it; "preoccupation" would have been a more appropriate word. And also because I still felt the charm of the quiet, somewhat more serious tone of the peaceful and dignified home-life of my new friends, and in my heart hoped that my next visit to my godmother might mean one to them too. "Oh _dear_, no," I repeated, "they are not at all that kind of family. They seem to have nice feelings to and about everybody, as far as I can judge. Indeed, dearest godmother, I can't tell you how much I shall look forward to another visit to you. You have been so very, _very_ kind." "That's all right, then," she replied. "And next time there must be no interruptions. I won't have you going off to Granville Square or anywhere. You won't care to do so. It isn't as if there were daughters in the family," and here there was a touch of inquiry in her tone; "that reminds me, by the way, that before you come again, I want to hunt up a few--even one or two--girl friends for you. You see I could scarcely do so before, till I knew you a little better and could judge what your tastes were, and so on." "And the sort of girl friends you thought I needed! Evidently they will not be of the ultra-serious order," I reflected, with a little secret amusement. But aloud I just laughed, and begged my godmother to believe that no girl friends she could possibly hunt up or down for me would suit me half or a quarter as well as her own charming young-hearted self. "I have Isabel Wynyard now," I said, "and I do feel that she has made me much more like other people--other girls, I mean." Lady Bretton glanced at me with affectionate approval. "I don't think, dear," she said, "that in my eyes there would ever have been much room for improvement or alteration for the better, though I am sure--I knew her mother a little, you know--that Isabel must be a thoroughly nice companion for you. I only hope that some day--" But here she stopped and hesitated. "What?" I said, my curiosity aroused. "Do go on, dear godmother. I could never mind anything you would say." She laughed, but there was a little constraint in her manner. "I was only going to--to express a hope," she resumed, "that some day you may meet somebody as desirable for a different kind of companion as Isabel Wynyard is in _her_ way. A commonplace thing to say, and certainly in your case there is time enough! Don't be in a hurry about it, my dear."