“I hope not,” she answered, bending her small, round, anxious face over her sewing, and attacking it vigorously. “They never struck me, you know,” returned Mrs. Phil, “as being a particularly dangerous couple, though now I think of it I do remember that it has once or twice occurred to me that Griffith has been rather stupid lately.” “It has occurred to me,” remarked Phil, dryly, “that he has taken a most unaccountable dislike to Gowan.” Mollie turned round to her window again. “Not to put it too strongly,” continued the head of the family, “he hates him like the deuce.” And he was not far wrong in making the assertion. The time had been coming for some time when the course of this unimposing story of true love was no longer to run smooth, and in these days Griffith was in a dangerous frame of mind. Now and then he heard of Gowan dropping in to spend a few hours at Brabazon Lodge, and now and then he heard of his good fortune in having found in Miss MacDowlas a positive champion. He was even a favorite with her, just as he was a favorite with many other people. Griffith did not visit Brabazon Lodge himself, he had given that up long ago, indeed had only once paid his respects to his relative since her arrival in London. That one visit, short and ceremonious as it was, had been enough for him. Like many estimable ladies, Miss MacDowlas had prejudices of her own which were hard to remove, and appearances had been against her nephew. “If he is living a respectable life, and so engaged in a respectable profession, my dear,” commented Dolly's proprietress, in one of her after conversations on the subject, “why does he look shabby and out at elbows? It is my opinion that he is a very disreputable young man.” “She thinks,” wrote Dolly to the victim, “that you waste your substance in riotous living.” And it was such an exquisite satire on the true state of affairs, that even Griffith forgot his woes for the moment, and laughed when he read the letter. Dolly herself was not prone to complain of Miss MacDowlas. She was not so bad as she looked, after all. She was obstinate and rigid enough on some points, but she had her fairer side, and Dolly found it. In a fashion of her own Miss MacDowlas was rather fond of her companion. A girl who was shrewd, industrious, and often amusing, was not to be despised in her opinion; so she showed her fair young handmaiden a certain amount of respect. She had engaged companions before, who being entertaining were not trustworthy, or being trustworthy were insufferably dull. She could trust Dolly with the most onerous of her domestic or social charges, she found, and there was no fear of her small change disappearing or her visitors being bored. So the position of that “young person” became an assured and decently comfortable one.