eyes slowly to Rylton; it is an entirely inconsequent glance--a
purely idle glance--and yet it suddenly occurs to Mrs. Bethune,
watching her narrowly, that there is coquetry in it; undeveloped,
certainly, but _there_. She is now a child; but later on?

Maurice is smiling back at the child as if amused. Mrs. Bethune lays
her hands upon his arm--Lady Rylton has gone away with old Lady
Eshurst.

"Maurice! there will be just time for a walk before tea," says she
in a whisper, her beautiful face uplifted very near to his. Her eyes
are full of promise.

He turns with her.

"Sir Maurice! Sir Maurice!" cries Tita; "remember our match at golf
to-morrow!" Sir Maurice looks back. "Mr. Gower and I, against you
and Mrs. Bethune. You _do_ remember?"

"Yes, and we shall win," says Mrs. Bethune, with a cold smile.

"Oh no! don't think it. We shall beat you into a cocked hat!" cries
Tita gaily.

"Good heavens! how vulgar she is!" says Mrs. Bethune.



CHAPTER VII.