regard　you　in　a　light　which　makes　me　want　to　protect　you　even　if　I
  have　nothing　to　gain　by　it。〃
  〃Yet　you　speak　as　if　you　thought　you　might　keep　me　for　yourself。〃
  〃For　YOURSELF。　　I　don't　want　you　to　suffer。〃
  〃Nor　to　suffer　yourself　by　my　doing　so；〃　said　Rose；　looking　down。
  〃Ah；　if　you　would　only　marry　me　next　month！〃　he　broke　out
  inconsequently。
  〃And　give　up　going　to　mamma？〃　Rose　waited　to　see　if　he　would　say
  〃What　need　that　matter？　　Can't　your　mother　come　to　us？〃　　But　he　said
  nothing　of　the　sort；　he　only　answered　…
  〃She　surely　would　be　sorry　to　interfere　with　the　exercise　of　any
  other　affection　which　I　might　have　the　bliss　of　believing　that　you
  are　now　free；　in　however　small　a　degree；　to　entertain。〃
  Rose　knew　that　her　mother　wouldn't　be　sorry　at　all；　but　she　contented
  herself　with　rejoining；　her　hand　on　the　door：　　〃Good…bye。　　I　sha'n't
  suffer。　　I'm　not　afraid。〃
  〃You　don't　know　how　terrible；　how　cruel；　the　world　can　be。〃
  〃Yes；　I　do　know。　　I　know　everything！〃
  The　declaration　sprang　from　her　lips　in　a　tone　which　made　him　look　at
  her　as　he　had　never　looked　before；　as　if　he　saw　something　new　in　her
  face；　as　if　he　had　never　yet　known　her。　　He　hadn't　displeased　her　so
  much　but　that　she　would　like　to　give　him　that　impression；　and　since
  she　felt　that　she　was　doing　so　she　lingered　an　instant　for　the
  purpose。　　It　enabled　her　to　see；　further；　that　he　turned　red；　then　to
  become　aware　that　a　carriage　had　stopped　at　the　door。　　Captain　Jay's
  eyes；　from　where　he　stood；　fell　upon　this　arrival；　and　the　nature　of
  their　glance　made　Rose　step　forward　to　look。　　Her　mother　sat　there；
  brilliant；　conspicuous；　in　the　eternal　victoria；　and　the　footman　was
  already　sounding　the　knocker。　　It　had　been　no　part　of　the　arrangement
  that　she　should　come　to　fetch　her；　it　had　been　out　of　the　questiona
  stroke　in　such　bad　taste　as　would　have　put　Rose　in　the　wrong。　　The
  girl　had　never　dreamed　of　it；　but　somehow；　suddenly；　perversely；　she
  was　glad　of　it　now；　she　even　hoped　that　her　grandmother　and　her　aunt
  were　looking　out　upstairs。
  〃My　mother　has　come　for　me。　　Good…bye；〃　she　repeated；　but　this　time
  her　visitor　had　got　between　her　and　the　door。
  〃Listen　to　me　before　you　go。　　I　will　give　you　a　life's　devotion；〃　the
  young　man　pleaded。　　He　really　barred　the　way。
  She　wondered　whether　her　grandmother　had　told　him　that　if　her　flight
  were　not　prevented　she　would　forfeit　money。　　Then；　vividly；　it　came
  over　her　that　this　would　be　what　he　was　occupied　with。　　〃I　shall
  never　think　of　youlet　me　go！〃　she　cried；　with　passion。
  Captain　Jay　opened　the　door；　but　Rose　didn't　see　his　face；　and　in　a
  moment　she　was　out　of　the　house。　　Aunt　Julia；　who　was　sure　to　have
  been　hovering；　had　taken　flight　before　the　profanity　of　the　knock。
  〃Heavens；　dear；　where　did　you　get　your　mourning？〃　the　lady　in　the
  victoria　asked　of　her　daughter　as　they　drove　away。
  CHAPTER　II。
  Lady　Maresfield　had　given　her　boy　a　push　in　his　plump　back　and　had
  said　to　him；　〃Go　and　speak　to　her　now；　it's　your　chance。〃　　She　had
  for　a　long　time　wanted　this　scion　to　make　himself　audible　to　Rose
  Tramore；　but　the　opportunity　was　not　easy　to　come　by。　　The　case　was
  complicated。　　Lady　Maresfield　had　four　daughters；　of　whom　only　one
  was　married。　　It　so　happened　moreover　that　this　one；　Mrs。　Vaughan…
  Vesey；　the　only　person　in　the　world　her　mother　was　afraid　of；　was　the
  most　to　be　reckoned　with。　　The　Honourable　Guy　was　in　appearance　all
  his　mother's　child；　though　he　was　really　a　simpler　soul。　　He　was
  large　and　pink；　large；　that　is；　as　to　everything　but　the　eyes；　which
  were　diminishing　points；　and　pink　as　to　everything　but　the　hair；
  which　was　comparable；　faintly；　to　the　hue　of　the　richer　rose。　　He　had
  also；　it　must　be　conceded；　very　small　neat　teeth；　which　made　his
  smile　look　like　a　young　lady's。　　He　had　no　wish　to　resemble　any　such
  person；　but　he　was　perpetually　smiling；　and　he　smiled　more　than　ever
  as　he　approached　Rose　Tramore；　who；　looking　altogether；　to　his　mind；
  as　a　pretty　girl　should；　and　wearing　a　soft　white　opera…cloak　over　a
  softer　black　dress；　leaned　alone　against　the　wall　of　the　vestibule　at
  Covent　Garden　while；　a　few　paces　off；　an　old　gentleman　engaged　her
  mother　in　conversation。　　Madame　Patti　had　been　singing；　and　they　were
  all　waiting　for　their　carriages。　　To　their　ears　at　present　came　a
  vociferation　of　names　and　a　rattle　of　wheels。　　The　air；　through
  banging　doors；　entered　in　damp；　warm　gusts；　heavy　with　the　stale；
  slightly　sweet　taste　of　the　London　season　when　the　London　season　is
  overripe　and　spoiling。
  Guy　Mangler　had　only　three　minutes　to　reestablish　an　interrupted
  acquaintance　with　our　young　lady。　　He　reminded　her　that　he　had　danced
  with　her　the　year　before；　and　he　mentioned　that　he　knew　her　brother。
  His　mother　had　lately　been　to　see　old　Mrs。　Tramore；　but　this　he　did
  not　mention；　not　being　aware　of　it。　　That　visit　had　produced；　on　Lady
  Maresfield's　part；　a　private　crisis；　engendered　ideas。　　One　of　them
  was　that　the　grandmother　in　Hill　Street　had　really　forgiven　the
  wilful　girl　much　more　than　she　admitted。　　Another　was　that　there
  would　still　be　some　money　for　Rose　when　the　others　should　come　into
  theirs。　　Still　another　was　that　the　others　would　come　into　theirs　at
  no　distant　date；　the　old　lady　was　so　visibly　going　to　pieces。　　There
  were　several　more　besides；　as　for　instance　that　Rose　had　already
  fifteen　hundred　a　year　from　her　father。　　The　figure　had　been　betrayed
  in　Hill　Street；　it　was　part　of　the　proof　of　Mrs。　Tramore's
  decrepitude。　　Then　there　was　an　equal　amount　that　her　mother　had　to
  dispose　of　and　on　which　the　girl　could　absolutely　count；　though　of
  course　it　might　involve　much　waiting；　as　the　mother；　a　person　of
  gross　insensibility；　evidently　wouldn't　die　of　cold…shouldering。
  Equally　definite；　to　do　it　justice；　was　the　conception　that　Rose　was
  in　truth　remarkably　good　looking；　and　that　what　she　had　undertaken　to
  do　showed；　and　would　show　even　should　it　fail；　cleverness　of　the
  right　sort。　　Cleverness　of　the　right　sort　was　exactly　the　quality
  that　Lady　Maresfield　prefigured　as　indispensable　in　a　young　lady　to
  whom　she　should　marry　her　second　son；　over　whose　own　deficiencies　she
  flung　the　veil　of　a　maternal　theory　that　HIS　cleverness　was　of　a　sort
  that　was　wrong。　　Those　who　knew　him　less　well　were　content　to　wish
  that　he　might　not　conceal　it　for　such　a　scruple。　　This　enumeration　of
  his　mother's　views　does　not　exhaust　the　list；　and　it　was　in　obedience
  to　one　too　profound　to　be　uttered　even　by　the　historian　that；　after　a
  very　brief　delay；　she　decided　to　move　across　the　crowded　lobby。　　Her
  daughter　Bessie　was　the　only　one　with　her；　Maggie　was　dining　with　the
  Vaughan…Veseys；　and　Fanny　was　not　of　an　age。　　Mrs。　Tramore　the
  younger　showed　only　an　admirable　backher　face　was　to　her　old
  gentlemanand　Bessie　had　drifted　to　some　other　people；　so　that　it
  was　comparatively　easy　for　Lady　Maresfield　to　say　to　Rose；　in　a
  moment：　　〃My　dear　child；　are　you　never　coming　to　see　us？〃
  〃We　shall　be　delighted　to　come　if　you'll　ask　us；〃　Rose　smiled。
  Lady　Maresfield　had　been　prepared　for　the　plural　number；　and　she　was
  a　woman　whom　it　took　many　plurals　to　disconcert。　　〃I'm　sure　Guy　is
  longing　for　another　dance　with　you；〃　she　rejoined；　with　the　most
  unblinking　irrelevance。
  〃I'm　afraid　we're　not　dancing　again　quite　yet；〃　said　Rose；　glancing
  at　her　mother's　exposed　shoulders；　but　speaking　as　if　they　were
  muffled　in　crape。
  Lady　Maresfield　leaned　her　head　on　one　side　and　seemed　almost
  wistful。　　〃Not　even　at　my　sister's　ball？　　She's　to　have　something
  next　week。　　She'll　write　to　you。〃
  Rose　Tramore；　on　the　spot；　looking　bright　but　vague；　turned　three　or
  four　things　over　in　her　mind。　　She　remembered　that　the　sister　of　her
  interlocutress　was　the　proverbially　rich　Mrs。　Bray；　a　bankeress　or　a
  breweress　or　a　builderess；　who　had　so　big　a　house　that　she　couldn't
  fill　it　unless　she　opened　her　doors；　or　her　mouth；　very　wide。　　Rose
  had　learnt　more　about　London　society　during　these　lonely　months　with
  her　mother　than　she　had　ever　picked　up　in　Hill　Street。　　The　younger
  Mrs。　Tramore　was　a　mine　of　commerages；　and　she　had　no　need　to　go　out
  to　bring　home　the　latest　intelligence。　　At　any　rate　Mrs。　Bray　might
  serve　as　the　end　of　a　wedge。　　〃Oh；　I　dare　say　we　might　think　of
  that；〃　Rose　said。　　〃It　would　be　very　kind　of　your　sister。〃
  〃Guy'll　think　of　it；　won't　you；　Guy？〃　asked　Lady　Maresfield。
  〃Rather！〃　Guy　responded；　with　an　intonation　as　fine　as　if　he　had
  learnt　it　at　a　music　hall；　while　at　the　same　moment　the　name　of　his
  mother's　carriage　was　bawled　through　the　place。　　Mrs。　Tramore　had
  parted　with　her　old　gentleman；　she　turned　again　to　her　daughter。
  Nothing　occurred　but　what　always　occurred；　which　was　exactly　this
  absence　of　everythinga　universal　lapse。　　She　didn't　exist；　even　for
  a　second；　to　any　recognising　eye。　　The　people　who　looked　at　herof
  course　there　were　plenty　of　thosewere　only　the　people　who　didn't
  exist　for　hers。　　Lady　Maresfield　surged　away　on　her　son's　arm。
  It　was　this　noble　matron　herself　who　wrote；　the　next　day；　inclosing　a
  card　of　invitation　from　Mrs。　Bray　and　expressing　the　hope　that　Rose
  would　come　and　dine　and　let　her　ladyship　take　her。　　She　should　have
  only　one　of　her