Into the great ballroom, which had lately been the scene of Gladys's triumph, the good-hearted matron went, trembling a little at the interview before her with the only male relative of Gladys who was likely to come and ask her explanation of the unfortunate affair.
There he stood by the mantelpiece, quite composed and quiet, but with a face which was bright with a light which had been missing from the ballroom on the night before.
On the sofa sat a queer little old gentleman with white hair and big spectacles, whom Farwell introduced as "the Rev. Abel Carleton, a cousin of Gladys's and of mine."
Poor Mrs. Fallow-Deer! she had been distressed at the idea of meeting one indignant relative, and here were two. It was almost more than she could bear, and, feeling that it was an occasion when a woman's best card should be played, she pressed her lace pocket-handkerchief to her eyes, and
