“Don't be silly,” said his wife. “Of course, women always think what they would do in such cases, if they were men; but if men did what women think they would do if they were men, the women would be disgusted.” “Oh!” “Yes. Her feeling in the matter is no guide.” “Do you know his family?” asked Mr. Erwin. “I think I do. Yes, I'm sure I do.” “Are they nice people?” “Haven't I told you they were a good Boston family?” “Then upon my word, I don't see that we've to take any attitude at all. I don't see that we've to regard him in one way or the other. It quite remains for him to make the first move.” As if they had been talking of nothing but dress before, Mrs. Erwin asked: “Do you think I look better in this black mexicaine, or would you wear your écru?” “I think you look very well in this. But why--He isn't going to propose to you, I hope?” “I must have on something decent to receive him in. What time does the train from Trieste get in?” “At three o'clock.” “It's one, now. There's plenty of time, but there isn't any too much. I'll go and get Lydia ready. Or perhaps you'll tap on her door, Henshaw, and send her here. Of course, this is the end of her voice,--if it is the end.” “It's the end of having an extraordinarily pretty girl in the house. I don't at all like it, you know,--having her whisked away in this manner.” Mrs. Erwin refused to let her mind wander from the main point. “He'll be round as soon as he can, after he arrives. I shall expect him by four, at the latest.” “I fancy he'll stop for his dinner before he comes,” said Mr. Erwin. “Not at all,” retorted his wife, haughtily. And with his going out of the room, she set her face in a resolute cheerfulness, for the task of heartening Lydia when she should appear; but it only expressed misgiving when the girl came in with her yachting-dress on. “Why, Lydia, shall you wear that?” Lydia swept her dress with a downward glance. “I thought I would wear it. I thought he--I should seem--more natural in it. I wore it all the time on the ship, except Sundays. He said--he liked it the best.” Mrs. Erwin shook her head. “It wouldn't do. Everything must be on a new basis now. He might like it; but it would be too romantic, wouldn't it, don't you think?” She shook her head still, but less decisively. “Better wear your silk. Don't you think you'd better wear your silk? This is very pretty, and the dark blue does become you, awfully. Still, I don't know--_I_ don't know, either! A great many English wear those careless things in the house. Well, _wear_ it, Lydia! You _do_ look perfectly killing in it. I'll tell you: your uncle was going to ask you to go out in his boat; he's got one he rows himself, and this is a boating costume; and you know you could time yourselves so as to get back just right, and you could come in with this on--” Lydia turned pale. “Oughtn't I--oughtn't I--to be here?” she faltered. Her aunt laughed gayly. “Why, he'll ask for _me_, Lydia.”