her shawl with an energy not unnoted by her duenna.
"Of course I cannot go," she said. "It is neither possible nor proper." Mrs. Keith would have given her biggest bracelet that this thing should not have happened in just this way; but she submitted with a good grace,—for a duenna. Hubert went down with her to her carriage. At the foot of the stairs she stopped, and while gathering up her skirts, "Mr. Lawrence," she demanded, "are you going to remain here?"
"A little while," said Hubert, with his imperturbable smile.
"A very little while, I hope." She had been wondering whether admonition would serve as a check or a stimulus. "I need hardly tell you that the young lady up stairs is not a person to be trifled with."
"I hardly know what you mean," said Hubert. "Am I a person to trifle?"
"Is it serious, then?"
Hubert hesitated a moment. She perceived a sudden watchful quiver in his eye, like a sword turned edge outward. She unsheathed one of her own steely beams, and for the tenth of a second there was a dainty crossing of blades. "I admire Miss Lambert," cried Hubert, "with all my heart."
"True admiration," said Mrs. Keith, "is one half respect and the other half self-denial."
Hubert laughed, ever so politely. "I will put that into a sermon," he said.
"O, I have a sermon to preach you," she answered. "Take your hat and go."
He looked very grave: "I will go up and get my hat."
