"So do most respectable people," I answered sharply. "We can't all go backwards. The terms wouldn't suit everybody."
"You needn't be personal," he answered; "and you needn't lose your temper. I say you look your age, and more than your age; and I'll tell you why----"
He broke off and tapped a bottle significantly. "Go your own way, of course, but don't say nobody ever tried to save you. Don't say your grandfather didn't warn you in time. You were as stupid as an owl last night when I came in. Yes, I know what you're going to say: I had better look to myself before I criticise other people. But, remember, I don't matter; my tour's booked through. Things are different with you, and I tell you frankly it's a sorry sight to see an old woman of your age going down the hill so fast. No grandfather could view such a spectacle calmly."
How I wept to be sure. It was the first kind, thoughtful word I had ever heard from him since the commencement of the New Scheme. For several days afterwards his manner quite changed. He devoted himself to me, and, amongst other things, purchased me two dozen bottles of non-alcoholic bitter beer, and a book of intemperate temperance addresses.
All too soon, however, I discovered the reasons for this sudden outburst of affection. Dear grandpapa began to feel that he could not get on without me, and he had another little affair in hand.
I found a morocco case in his room one morning. It contained a very exquisite gold bracelet. He had been late overnight, and I had taken his breakfast up to him. The parcel with the bracelet came on the preceding evening while he was out. He had opened it on returning and left it open. As he was asleep when I took in his morning meal, I had time to examine the trinket. I looked at the costly toy, and then at grandpapa reposing peacefully and sweetly, with a glow of health and youth on his face. He lived out of doors now, and spent most of his time at the Palace. Of course the bracelet spoke louder than words.
He awoke, saw what I had seen, sat up, ate three eggs, much toast, and other things, then made a clean breast of his latest entanglement.
"It's the purest, truest attachment--my first genuine love, so to speak, and my last. And she's a girl to whom I can tell my secret; I feel that. Susan would believe anything. She will see me through the next two years or so, and then she will be left free to marry again. Yes, we are engaged. Socially it is a bit of a come-down from Mabel Talbot, but I don't want to found a family or go in for a swagger connection. The girl loves me, and that's quite good enough for me."
"Who is she, grandpapa?"
"Nobody; at least I don't know anything about her family. She doesn't ever mention them, and I make no enquiries. I don't want to be within the radius of another mother-in-law again at my time of life--I know them. We're going to be married privately, and then run out to America. Susan keeps a stall at the Crystal Palace. She's a model girl, and sells chocolate and sweetstuff generally. You might go and see her without saying anything. Just stop in a casual way and hear her talk. Buy a pennyworth of something and study the girl a little. She's a perfect treasure of a woman in my opinion. I've reached an age now when goodness outweighs beauty and everything. But she is beautiful too. She hangs out under that statue of the lady and the horse--lady and horse both dressed alike. You'll find her there, and you'll recognise her if you go this afternoon by this bracelet, which she'll have on by that time. Draw her out and you'll find I'm right. She would cling to me and comfort my declining years. I shall tell her I'm going away to London for the afternoon; then you will have it all to yourself and see what a girl she is."