’Of her daughter, then.  Isn’t she a sweet, quiet girl?  Do you know that she is rich?  It’s perfectly true.  Mrs. Chittle is the widow of a man who made a big fortune out of a kind of imitation velvet.  It sold only for a few years, then something else drove it out of the market; but the money was made.  I know all about it from Mrs. Dane.’

‘It’s nothing to me,’ said Horace peevishly.

But Mrs. Damerel continued: 

’The poor girl has been very unfortunate.  In the last year of her father’s life they lived in good style, town-house and country-house.  And she fell in love with somebody who—­who treated her badly; broke it off, in fact, just before the wedding.  She had a bad illness, and since then she has lived as her mother told you.’

‘How do you know she told me?’

’I—­oh, I took it for granted.  She said you had had a long talk.  You can see, of course, that they’re not ordinary people.  Didn’t Winifred—­her name is Winifred—­strike you as very refined and lady-like?’

‘She hardly spoke half-a-dozen words.’

’That’s her nervousness.  She has quite got out of the habit of society.  But she’s very clever, and so good.  I want you to see more of her.  If she comes here to tea, will you—­just to please me—­ look in for half-an-hour?’

She bent her head aside, wistfully.  Horace vouchsafed no reply.

’Dear boy, I know very well what a disappointment you are suffering.  Why not be quite open with me?  Though I’m only a tiresome old aunt, I feel every bit as anxious for your happiness as if I were your mother—­I do indeed, Horace.  You believe me, don’t you?’

’You have been very kind, in many ways.  But you’ve done harm to Fanny—­’

’No harm whatever, Horace—­believe me.  I have only given her an opportunity of showing what she really is.  You see now that she thinks of nothing at all but money and selfish pleasures.  Compare her, my dear, with such a girl as Winifred Chittle.  I only mean—­ just to show you the difference between a lady and such a girl as Fanny.  She has treated you abominably, my poor boy.  And what would she bring you?  Not that I wish you to marry for money.  I have seen too much of the world to be so foolish, so wicked.  But when there are sweet, clever, lady-like girls, with large incomes—!  And a handsome boy like you!  You may blush, but there’s no harm in telling the truth.  You are far too modest.  You don’t know how you look in the eyes of an affectionate, thoughtful girl—­like Winifred, for instance.  It’s dreadful to think of you throwing yourself away!  My dear, it may sound shocking to you, but Fanny French isn’t the sort of girl that men marry.’

Horace showed himself startled.

‘You are so young,’ pursued the mature lady, with an indulgent smile.  ’You need the advice of some one who knows the world.  In years to come, you will feel very grateful to me.  Now don’t let us talk any more of that, just now; but tell me something about Nancy.  How much longer does she mean to stay in Cornwall?’