entious scruples as to absenting herself so long from her domestic circle. Miss Daintry esteemed conscientious scruples when they were well placed, but she thought poorly on the present occasion of those of Mrs. Mesh's visitor; they interfered so much with her own sense of fitness. "Has Florimond been making love to you?" she suddenly inquired. "You must n't mind that—beyond boxing his ears."
Her question appeared to amuse Miss Torrance exceedingly; and the girl, a little inarticulate with her mirth, answered very positively that the young man had done her no such honor.
"I am very sorry to hear it," said Lucretia; "I was in hopes he would give you a chance to take him down. He needs it very much. He's dreadfully puffed up."
"He 's an amusing little man!"
Miss Daintry put on her nippers. "Don't tell me it 's you that are in love!"
"Oh, dear no! I like big, serious men, not small, Frenchified gentlemen, like Florimond. Excuse me if he 's your nephew, but you began it. Though I am fond of art," the girl added, "I don't think I am fond of artists."
"Do you call Florimond an artist?"
Rachel Torrance hesitated a little, smiling. "Yes, when he poses for Pauline Mesh."
This rejoinder for a moment left Miss Daintry in visible perplexity; then a sudden light seemed to come to her. She flushed a little; what she found was more
