By the inspiration of this double charge, Archie became a new man. He led Lady Jean very tremulously, it must be allowed, through a quadrille--or she led him, it would perhaps be better to say; but he was very docile and very humble, and her ladyship did not dislike the modest young man, who, for the first time for some days, opened full his mother’s eyes, innocent and honest, upon those to whom he spoke. She said, “He’s not an ill lad, that young Rowland,” to the ladies about her. And Miss Eliza repeated it up and down the room. “We all know what dear Lady Jean means,” cried that lady. “She is maybe sparing of her praises, but when she does say a good word, it comes from the heart. He has many things to contend against, but he’s not an ill lad. I have always said it myself. Few women have greater opportunities of studying young folk than I have, though I’m only, as you may say, an old maid myself. And so is Lady Jean for that matter. We are just a real respectable fraternity--or would it be better to say sisterhood?--but that’s a word with other meanings. No, he’s not an ill lad. He has always been very civil to me, and the boys all like him. They say there’s no humbug in him. But Lady Jean is the one to give a thing it’s right name.” Whether any echo of this comforting report reached Archie’s ken it would be hard to tell, but it somehow blew across his father’s ears, and made him laugh till the tears came to his eyes. He sought out Evelyn in the midst of her guests to report it to her. “It’s Scotch praise,” he said, “but it means more than you would suppose.” “I think it is very poor praise, and Archie deserves a great deal better,” said his wife, which pleased him too. “But that from Lady Jean is more than raptures from another,” he replied.