"Darling, I am so pleased to see you!" she said, "and we'll have a nice long talk. Where's Arthur! Arthur is really too tiresome; he asked Tom Liscombe to come down with us when I had counted on a nice quiet empty carriage all to ourselves. He didn't want him, nor did I; but that is so like Arthur, to do good-natured things from a sort of vague weakness. He saw Tom, and asked him without thinking what he was doing. You look rather careworn, Maud. What is it now?"
"Oh, come for a stroll, Kitty," said the other; "I want to talk."
"Very well; I must say good-bye to Arthur."
"Oh, you ridiculous person," she said; "you will be away ten minutes. Would you like to make your will, too?"
"Well, if it's only ten minutes--oh, he's looking. There!" and she waved a tiny morsel of a handkerchief to him.
"Now, I cannot understand that," she said.
"No, dear, of course not. You're not married. I should have thought it as ridiculous as you before. By the way, Maud--oh, _that's_ why you look careworn. Is it true you are going to marry Anthony Maxwell? Darling, how nice, and _simply_ rolling!"
"You think that is important?" asked Maud.
"Why, of course. It's the only crumpled rose-leaf Arthur and I have. It makes us quite miserable; there's always that little ghost in the corner. Can we afford this? Can we spare the money for that? But you haven't answered me. Is it true?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," said Maud.
"You absurd creature!" she said; "you must know. Has he proposed to you?"
"No, but he has told mother he wants to. And he has been stalking me all the afternoon."
"He shall stalk you no longer," she said. "Really, Maud, you are behaving very unfairly to him. If you are going to marry him, say so; if not--well, if not, you will be a very foolish person, but still say so. He has a mother, I know that, but really his mother matters very much less than the man himself. He's all right, isn't he? Behaves nicely--I mean, hasn't a vice about him--looks decent?"
"Oh, my dear, what do you want? Every one can't be an Adonis, and, as the copybooks used to say, human nature is limited. I dare say he's not a genius; well, no more are you. As for beauty, you've got enough for two, and he's got money enough for three--baby, as well, do you see? Oh yes, I am indelicate, I know, but it's far better than being delicate. Being delicate never pays; on the other hand, you have to pay for it, and I haven't got enough money for it. You are lucky, Maud."