Mrs. Gracedew laughingly tapped her heart. “Yes, we’ve had a scene! He went up again to your father.” Cora was disconcerted. “Papa’s not there. He just came down to me by the other way.” “Then he can join you here,” said Mrs. Gracedew with instant resignation. “I’m going.” “Just when I’ve come back to you--at the risk,” Cora made bold to throw off, “of again interrupting, though I really hoped he had gone, your conversation with Captain Yule?” But Mrs. Gracedew let the ball quite drop. “I’ve nothing to say to Captain Yule.” Cora picked it up for another toss. “You had a good deal to say a few minutes ago!” “Well, I’ve said it, and it’s over. I’ve nothing more to say at all,” Mrs. Gracedew insisted. But her announcement of departure left her on this occasion, as each of its predecessors had done, with a last, with indeed a fresh, solicitude. “What has become of my delightful ‘party’?” “They’ve been dismissed, through the grounds, by the other door. But they mentioned,” the girl pursued, “the probable arrival of a fresh lot.” Mrs. Gracedew showed on this such a revival of interest as fairly amounted to yearning. “Why, what times you have! _You_,” she nevertheless promptly decreed, “must take the fresh lot--since the house is now practically yours!” Poor Cora looked blank. “Mine?” Her companion matched her stare. “Why, if you’re going to marry Captain Yule.” Cora coloured, in a flash, to the eyes. “I’m _not_ going to marry Captain Yule!” Her friend as quickly paled again. “Why on earth then did you tell me only ten minutes ago that you were?” Cora could only look bewildered at the charge. “I told you nothing of the sort. I only told you”--she was almost indignantly positive--“that he had been ordered me!” It sent Mrs. Gracedew off; she moved away to indulge an emotion that presently put on the form of extravagant mirth. “Like a dose of medicine or a course of baths?” The girl’s gravity and lucidity sustained themselves. “As a remedy for the single life.” Oh, she had mastered the matter now! “But I won’t take him!” “Ah, then, why didn’t you let me know?” Mrs. Gracedew panted. “I was on the very point of it when he came in and interrupted us.” Cora clearly felt she might be wicked, but was at least not stupid. “It’s just to let you know that I’m here now.” Ah, the difference it made! This difference, for Mrs. Gracedew, suddenly shimmered in all the place, and her companion’s fixed eyes caught in her face the reflection of it. “Excuse me--I misunderstood. I somehow took for granted----!” She stopped, a trifle awkwardly--suddenly tender, for Cora, as to the way she had inevitably seen it. “You took for granted I’d jump at him? Well, you can take it for granted I won’t!” Mrs. Gracedew, fairly admiring her, put it sympathetically. “You prefer the single life?” “No--but I don’t prefer _him_!” Cora was crystal-bright.