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 had no thought of surrendering him lightly. Far from approving his politics or his revolutionary coquettings with "new ideas," of all things the most deadly in his mother's opinion, she seemed to regard him still as only fit for the nursery. He knew little about life, he knew even less about women.

In their first quarter of an hour together over the drawing-room teacups Helen was amused, irritated, surprised, confounded by the calm assumptions of Lady Elizabeth Endor. All her standards of life and conduct were based on a rather remote past. John, who had humor enough to make due allowance for the old lady's antique flavor, had done his best to prepare Helen for a shock; all the same, a lively sense of the comic was needed in Helen herself to make tolerable that first evening at Wyndham.

Not the least trying circumstance was Lady Elizabeth's complete and resolute charge of the patient. If he were able to get a good night's rest and his cut and bruised head became no worse, he might be allowed "up" for a short time on the morrow. Meanwhile, no one, not even his affianced, must venture to disturb the peace of his chamber.

Helen liked not the ukase but she had to submit. She had also to submit to dressing for dinner in a fireless but moldily magnificent bedroom. Moldy magnificence seemed, in fact, to be the note of that cheerless house. It even extended to the dinner itself. Long before that function was through, Helen felt that it was