"My dear," she said to an intimate friend, "if I did that, Dorothy is just the kind of annoying girl to run away with him and live in a garret. If I let them meet they will not think of marriage, and I dare say Dorothy will get tired of Brendon. He is so shabby in his dress, and so poor, that after a time she will cease to like him. No! No! I'll let him follow her wherever he likes, and meet her on all occasions. They will grow sick of one another." In an ordinary case this recipe might have answered. But Dorothy respected as well as loved George Brendon, and, every time she met him, grew to admire and love him more. Mrs. Ward became quite exasperated, and redoubled her efforts to sicken Dorothy of the "creature," as she called Brendon. She took to praising him on all occasions, and sometimes asked him to dinner. At the same time she constantly abused young Walter Vane, who was Lord Derrington's grandson and heir. He was the man she wished Dorothy to marry, as one day he would have a title and fifteen thousand a year. But in spite of this Machiavellian policy Dorothy still continued to love George, and expressed a hearty dislike for Walter Vane, whom she characterized as a "weakling." "If he had only the grit of his grandfather I might respect him." Mrs. Ward turned pale under her rouge when she heard this. "Oh, no, no! Lord Derrington is a terrible old man. Were Walter such as he is, I should not ask you to marry him." "You would marry me to the Prince of Darkness himself if it suited your purpose," said her daughter, calmly, from which speech it will be seen that Miss Ward had small respect for her fascinating mother. The two did not assimilate, as their dispositions were so different. Mrs. Ward complained that Dorothy was too religious, and Dorothy found the frivolous world in which her mother moved dull beyond words. It so happened that Dorothy stayed mostly at home or went out with one of her aunts, who was something of her type, while Mrs. Ward enjoyed herself at Hurlingham and Monte Carlo. The little woman always managed to keep on the right side, as she had no notion of losing her position in society, or the income which Lord Ransome allowed her; but within limits she was extremely fast. She generally had a number of young men at her heels, and made use of them in betting and in getting boxes for the theaters, for suppers at the Cecil, and gloves, when nothing else was to be had. But she managed all these things so discreetly that no one had a word to say, and the general impression was that she was a dear little woman with a stiff daughter--quite a trial. And if some old frumps did praise up Dorothy and condemn the mother, they were in the minority.