Twenty minutes later, refreshed by her bath and dressed in the gown she had chosen for her travels, Jane was quite her cheerful self again. She was also unromantically hungry, and after a brief period of indecision descended boldly to the breakfast room, where she was tolerably certain of finding none of the female members of the household. Mr. Robert Aubrey-Blythe was apparently just about finishing his repast and his newspaper. He looked up as his niece entered the room. "Good morning, Jane," he said fussily. "You are late." "Yes, Uncle Robert," very meekly, "I overslept this morning." "I--er--in short, Jane, I saw Towle again yesterday, at the Club," pursued Mr. Aubrey-Blythe, thoughtfully gazing at the girl through his double eyeglasses. "The man is--er--quite daft about you, Jane. I own I was astonished. Ha-ha! very amusing, I'm sure." "I'll never speak to Mr. Towle again--_never_!" cried Jane, her cheeks flaming. "The idea of his daring----" "Tut-tut, girl; don't be a fool!" advised Mr. Aubrey-Blythe testily. "What Towle said was--er--quite correct, quite as it should be, in case--you--er--. By the by, Jane, why can't you hit it off better with Lady Agatha and Gwendolyn? I'm infernally bored with having to hear about your interminable squabbles; I am, indeed. And it's beastly bad taste in you, Jane, to be always getting up scenes. You ought to know that." "There'll be no further scenes between Gwendolen and myself," said Jane, very calm and dignified. "I can promise you that, sir." "Well now, upon my word, that sounds something like," said Mr. Aubrey-Blythe, pushing back his chair. "I trust you'll keep that in mind hereafter. We--er--shall endeavor to do our duty by you, Jane; and you, on your part----" The girl's sudden and unexpected response to this well-meant attempt at reconciliation shocked and astonished her worthy relative beyond measure. She arose from her chair and put her two young arms about his neck with something very like a sob. "I do thank you, Uncle Robert, for all you've done for me," she said. "I've not meant to be disagreeable or ungrateful since I've lived in your house; indeed I've not. But I--couldn't help it, and I'm sorry for--everything!" "Come--come--er--I say!" spluttered Mr. Aubrey-Blythe. "You mustn't, you know, or I shall have to call Lady Agatha. I dare say you'll go on quite as you should after this." "Good-by, uncle," said Jane, smiling and winking fast to keep the tears from falling off her thick lashes. "I'm glad I said it. You'll not forget." Then she sat down with a very good appetite to the fresh coffee and eggs and bacon which were set before her. One must eat to live, however young and beautiful one may be, and whatever the base and undeserved cruelty of one's relations. She had not finished when Percy and Cecil clattered into the breakfast room, with every evidence of having carried on a spirited skirmish on the way downstairs.