"Can I go, father?"
Mr. Colwyn made a grimace. "Between your disreputable friends and your aristocratic ones, I'm in a difficulty, Janet."
"Don't say so, father dear!"
"Well, I consented," said Mr. Colwyn, in rather a grudging tone. "She said that she would send her carriage for you to-morrow at noon, and that she would send you back again between six and seven. Her daughter was most anxious to see you, she said."
Janetta lifted up a happy face. "I knew that Margaret would be true to me. I never doubted her."
Mr. Colwyn watched her silently for a moment, then he put his hand upon her head, and began smoothing the thick black locks. "You have a very faithful nature, my Janet," he said, tenderly, "and I am afraid that it will suffer a great many shocks in this work-a-day world of ours. Don't let it lead you astray, my child. Remember there is a point at which faithfulness may degenerate into sheer obstinacy."
"I don't think it will ever do so with me."
"Well, perhaps not, for you have a clear head on those young shoulders of yours. But you must be careful."
"And I may go to Lady Caroline's, father?"
"Yes, my dear, you may. And now I must go: my time is up. I have had a very pleasant hour, my Janet."