priety hastened to respond, "the gentleman to make any about anything."
She had to resign herself, but she smiled as she thought. "Well, perhaps I like them better when they don't!" She had clearly a great range of taste, and it all came out in the wistfulness with which, before the notice apparently served on her, she prepared to make way. "I also"—she lingered and sighed—"have taken possession!"
Poor Chivers really rose to her. "It was you, mum," he smiled, "took it first!"
She sadly shook her head. "Ah, but for a poor little hour! He's for life."
The old man gave up, after a little, with equal depression, the pretence of dealing with such realities. "For mine, mum, I do at least hope."
She made again the circuit of the great place, picking up without interest the jacket she had on her previous entrance laid down. "I shall think of you, you know, here together." She vaguely looked about her as for anything else to take; then abruptly, with her eyes again on Chivers: "Do you suppose he'll be kind to you?"
His hand, in his trousers-pocket, seemed to turn the matter over. "He has already been, mum."
