Mrs. Gereth looked at her with a slight increase of hardness. "You've done everything you need for modesty, my dear! If he's sick with love of you, you haven't had to wait for me to inform you." "That and several other things."!

"She never saw it at all, she never looked at it!" cried Mrs. Gereth. "It displeased her fearfully," said Owen, looking very queer.

Fleda jerked herself up. "Were they saving the things?" "What I mean to say is, if she's angry at your backing me up—what will you do then? She can't possibly like it, you know." "It's the sharpest thing I ever saw in my life!" They looked at each other with intelligence, in appreciation of the sharpness, and Owen quickly broke into a loud laugh. The laugh was in itself natural, but the occasion of it strange; and stranger still, to Fleda, so that she too almost laughed, the inconsequent charity with which he added: "Poor dear old Mummy! That's one of the reasons I asked for you," he went on—"to see if you'd back her up."