Mrs. Brigstock, at this, became vivid at once; Fleda thought she looked most peculiar. She stood straight up, with a queer distention of her whole person and of everything in her face but her mouth, which she gathered into a small, tight orifice. Fleda was painfully divided; her joy was deep within, but it was more relevant to the situation that she should not appear to associate herself with the tone of familiarity in which Owen addressed a lady who had been, and was perhaps still, about to become his mother-in-law. She laid on Mrs. Brigstock's arm a repressive hand. Mrs. Brigstock, however, had already exclaimed on her having so wonderful a defender. "He speaks, upon my word, as if I had come here to be rude to you!" "I don't see very clearly. Of course you must give her what you offered her; of course you must keep your word. There must be no mistake about that!" the girl declared.!

"Oh no, not everything; I saw how little I could get into this scrap of a house. I only brought away what I required." "Poynton was too splendidly happy," Fleda promptly echoed.

"They've looked very beautiful, and they've been very beautiful. Oh, I've told her the sort you are!" the young man pursued. At this she knew. "Poynton's on fire?" "That gives me a pull!" Fleda returned, smiling.