She stopped here, finding further revelation, perhaps, injudicious; but apparently the mere suggestion of interference in one case showed the possibility of doing so in another. She had taken the cup of tea from Janet’s hand, who sat down opposite her, in a way which was very familiar and home-like, and Mrs. Harwood’s mouth was opened. After a pause she began, with a little laugh, “My son is not of that kind. I wonder, by the way, what has become of him that he is not in for tea? He is rather the other way. He goes a great deal too fast. If ever he thinks he is in love he will blurt out everything at once, and perhaps find himself bound for life to some one whom he has only known for a few days.” “That is even more dangerous than the other way,” said Janet, with exceeding demureness, in the half light. “Worse for the man, but not for the woman, who gets everything she wants. The other is a great deal better for the man, who holds off until he is quite sure----” “One would think, then, that you rather approve of that last way, though I thought you had condemned it; but perhaps it is only for your son you would like it, and not for other people----” “I don’t approve it at all,” cried Mrs. Harwood, hotly. “A girl’s best years may be wasted like that--always waiting and waiting--and perhaps some other cut her out in the end. You can’t think I should approve of that, my dear. I only say that Dolff, poor boy, is all the other way, and will most likely fling himself at the head of the first girl he fancies, which would be a pity for the girl too, for Dolff will not be very well off. He has got his grandfather’s little property in Wales, which is entailed on him, but he has in reality nothing more: though perhaps people might think otherwise, seeing him always treated as if he were the master of the house.” Janet made no answer for a minute or two, and then, with a not unnatural instinct of combativeness, it occurred to her to carry the war into the enemy’s country. She asked: “Have you been very long in this house, Mrs. Harwood?” in her most childlike voice. “Eh? Oh! in this house? We came about fifteen years ago when Julia was a baby,” she answered, briefly. “You must have done a great deal to it to make it so pretty. And have you really never used the wing?” “The wing?” Mrs. Harwood, in the first impulse of astonishment, raised her eyes and stared at Janet, but said no more. “It looks,” said Janet, “as if it must be such a nice, well-shaped room--or perhaps there is more than one room? Many people would be so glad to have that little additional space.” “You seem to know a great deal about it,” said Mrs. Harwood, “though I don’t quite know how, for it has been shut up for years, and none of the servants even have ever been in. It is full of old furniture from my home in Wales--and other lumber.” “To be sure,” said Janet, “a nice lumber-room where you can put everything is of great use.”