his daughter, but had no love of children, and would not have
encouraged familiarities, even if Dolores had not been too entirely a
drawing-room child to offer them.

The morning came, and everything went on as usual; Dolores poured out
the coffee, Mr. Mohun read his Times, Fraulein ate as usual, but
afterwards he asked for a few minutes' conversation with Fraulein. All
that Dolores heard of the result of it was 'So,' and then lessons went
on until twelve o'clock, when it was the custom that the girl should
have an hour's recreation, which was, in any tolerable weather, spent
in the gardens of the far west Crescent, where she lived. There she
was nearly certain of meeting her one great friend, Maude Sefton, who
was always sent out for her airing at the same time.

They spied each other issuing from their doors, met, linked their arms,
and entered together. Maude was a tall, rosy girl, with a great yellow
bush down her back, half a year older than Dolores, and a great deal
bigger.

'My dearest Doll!'

'Oh yes, it is come.'

'Then he is really going? I heard the pater and mater talking about it
yesterday, and they said it would be an excellent thing for him.'

'Oh, Maude! Then they did not say anything about what we hoped?'

'What, the mater's offering for you to come and live with us, darling?
Oh no; and I's afraid it is of no use to ask her, for she said of