"And Catherine, I can see her eyes sparkle."
At Catherine's name Beatrice clasped her hands before her, and began to pace slowly up and down the little enclosure which contained the wide French windows opening into the garden.
"And you will make me good, Beatrice."
Captain Bertram was astute enough to see that he played his best card here.
Half an hour later he left her. She had apparently consented to nothing—but she had agreed to see him again the following day.
CHAPTER XXI.
WITH CATHERINE IN THE ROSE BOWER.
Mrs. Meadowsweet was not the least like Mrs. Bell. She was not constantly on the watch for lovers for her only daughter. She was naturally such a contented and easy-going woman that she never troubled herself to look far ahead. The time being was always more or less sufficient to her. No two people could be snugger or more absolutely comfortable together than she and her Bee. It was no use therefore worrying her head about the possible contingency that the girl might marry and leave her.
Mrs. Meadowsweet, as she walked about her old-fashioned garden on that summer's morning was not at all put about by the fact that her pretty daughter was having a solemn conference in the drawing-room with the handsomest and most elegant young man of their acquaintance. She was not curious nor anxious, nor perturbed in any way. She pottered round her plants, pulling up a weed here, and removing a withered bud there, in the most comfortable fashion, and only once she made a remark to herself with regard to the occupants of the drawing-room. This was her sole allusion to them.