VI.
MY LAST CHANCE.
'Now mind,' said Mrs. Hilary Musgrave impressively, 'this is the last time I shall take any trouble about you. She's a very nice girl, quite pretty, and she'll have a lot of money. You can be very pleasant when you like'
'This unsolicited testimonial'
'Which isn't often—and if you don't do it this time I wash my hands of you. Why, how old are you?'
'Hush, Mrs. Hilary.'
'You must be nearly'
'It's false—false—false!'
'Come along,' said Mrs. Hilary, and she added, over her shoulder, 'she has a north-country accent.'
'It might have been Scotch,' said I.
'She plays the piano a good deal.'
'It might have been the fiddle,' said I.
'She's very fond of Browning.'
'It might have been Ibsen,' said I.
Mrs. Hilary, seeing that I was determined to look on the bright side, smiled graciously on me and introduced me to the young lady. She was
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