advances towards the group. She is a cousin of the late Sir Maurice,
and an aunt of Gower's, from whom much is to be expected by the
latter at her death. There is therefore, as you see, a cousinship
between the Gowers and the Ryltons.

"My dear aunt, is that you?" says Mr. Gower with enthusiasm. "Come
and sit here; _do,_ just here _beside_ me!"

He pats the rug on which he is reclining as he speaks, beckoning her
warmly to it, knowing as he well does that her bones would break if
she tried to bring them to so low a level.

"Thank you, Randal, I prefer a more elevated position," replies she
austerely.

"Ah, you would! you would!" says Randal, who really ought to be
ashamed of himself. "You were meant for high places."

He sighs loudly, and goes back on his rug.

"Miss Gower is right," says Mrs. Bethune gaily, who has just
arrived. "Why don't _you_ go in for Miss Bolton?"

"She wouldn't have me!" says Gower tragically. "I've hinted all
sorts of lovely things to her during the past week, but she has been
apparently blind to the brilliant prospects opened to her. It has
been my unhappy lot to learn that she prefers lollipops to lovers."

"You tried her?" asks Mrs. Chichester.