'Thank you, Mrs. Mumford. I mean to say he's a regular silly. But he's in a very good position--a partner in Jannaway Brothers of Woolwich, though he isn't thirty yet. Well, now, what do you think? Mr. Bowling doesn't seem to know his own mind, and just lately he's been paying so much attention to _me_ that Cissy has got quite frantic about it. This was really and truly the reason why I left home.' 'I see,' murmured the listener, with a look of genuine interest. 'Yes. They wanted to get me out of the way. There wasn't the slightest fear that I should try to cut Cissy Higgins out; but it was getting very awkward for her, I admit. Now that's the kind of thing that doesn't go on among nice people, isn't it?' 'But what do you mean, Louise, when you say that Miss Higgins and Mr.--Mr. Bowling are _half_ engaged?' 'Oh, I mean she has refused him once, just for form's sake; but he knows very well she means to have him. People of your kind don't do that sort of thing, do they?' 'I hardly know,' Emmeline replied, colouring a little at certain private reminiscences. 'And am I to understand that you wouldn't on any account listen to Mr. Bowling?' Louise laughed. 'Oh, there's no knowing what I might do to spite Cissy. We hate each other, of course. But I can't fancy myself marrying him, He has a long nose, and talks through it. And he says "think you" for "thank you," and he sings--oh, to hear him sing! I can't bear the man.' The matter of this conversation Emmeline reported to her husband at night, and they agreed in the hope that neither Mr. Cobb nor Mr. Bowling would make an appearance at "Runnymede." Mumford opined that these individuals were "cads." Small wonder, he said, that the girl wished to enter a new social sphere. His wife, on the other hand, had a suspicion that Miss Derrick would not be content to see the last of Mr. Cobb. He, the electrical engineer, or whatever he was, could hardly be such a ruffian as the girl depicted. His words, 'You have neither heart nor brains,' seemed to indicate anything but a coarse mind. 'But what a bad-tempered lot they are!' Mumford observed. 'I suppose people of that sort quarrel and abuse each other merely to pass the time. They seem to be just one degree above the roughs who come to blows and get into the police court. You must really do your best to get the girl out of it; I'm sure she is worthy of better things.' 'She is--in one way,' answered his wife judicially. 'But her education stopped too soon. I doubt if it's possible to change her very much. And--I really should like, after all, to see Mr. Cobb.' Mumford broke into a laugh. 'There you go! The eternal feminine. You'll have her married in six months.' 'Don't be vulgar, Clarence. And we've talked enough of Louise for the present.'