“Ha! ha! ha!” Danford held his sides, convulsed with laughter. “Even the ex-hero of civilised warfare is puzzled at what is to be done with his obsolete bag of tricks!” “Poor Mowbray will lose another illusion,” remarked Lionel, and the two men walked up toward St James’s Park. CHAPTER XIV “I shall do your hair for you, mother dear,” said Eva one morning. They were both in Lady Carey’s dressing-room, as it was the time when the maid was rung for to attend to her mistress’s coiffure. “A very good idea, Eva. I must say I never feel quite at my ease with Elise, and I ring for her as seldom as I can now. It does seem so funny to give orders to a person who stands just as naked as you are.” “Oh! I am so glad! I have been longing to arrange your lovely hair in my own way,” and Eva clapped her hands with joy. “You are very brusque, Eva—here are the hairpins, and the brush is in that drawer.” Eva held the mass of auburn hair in her fingers, and softly brushed it off the delicate temples of her mother. “I am afraid, dear child, you have lost a great deal of your ladylike grace since you have been a regular attendant at these public tournaments. You associate with such a queer lot there; I am sure it must be fatal to good manners.” In a few seconds Eva had wound the rich coils of hair into a Grecian knot on the shapely head of her mother. “You look a perfect dear, mother; so like the Medici Venus—you don’t know how perfectly lovely you are.” The girl kissed Lady Carey and sat at her feet. “My poor child, I do not know what is to become of us all.” “You need not be anxious, mother”—Eva leaned her graceful head on her mother’s lap. “It is useless to try to stem the tide; nothing that you can ever do will prevent what has to be.” “What do you aim at, child?” asked Lady Carey, as she tidied her combs and brushes. “Nothing, mother—but—I often crave for freedom.” “Is there anything you want to say, Eva?” Lady Carey laid her hand on the girl’s hair. “I have heard and seen such strange things lately, that I might just as well know all.” “Oh! darling mother, I could not bear to do anything which you would consider underhand; although my actions would only be the reflection of my own convictions.” Lady Carey took her daughter’s face in her two hands and stared hard at her. “Are you thinking of doing the same mad thing as Gwen? If so, say it at once; I had rather be prepared for the worst.” No answer came. Eva dropped her eyelids and spoke no word. At last she softly murmured, “I love Sinclair.” “Oh! for the matter of that, many have done the same,” derisively remarked her mother, as she gently pushed away the face she held. “Yes,” breathlessly answered the girl, “but he loves me.” “Hum! He has told that to many. All this is nonsense, you must put all this out of your silly head. Sinclair is not a marrying man; besides, he is not the husband _I_ would wish you to have.”