"Ah, darling, it is good to see you back again," she said; "but you look hot and tired. What a long time you have been in town!"
"I have had quite an adventure," he said. "Mother, I want to know if you will do something for me."
"You have but to ask, Maurice."
"There is a girl"—he hesitated, and a very slight accession of colour came into his bronzed cheeks, "there is a girl I have taken rather a fancy to. Oh, no, I am not the least bit in love with her, so don't imagine it, little mother; but I pity her, and like her also exceedingly. I met her down at Dawlish. I want to know if you will be good to her. I came across her to-day whilst walking in town, and she was looking, oh! so fagged out and tired! I said you would write and invite her to come and see us here, and I promised that you would ask her to spend next Sunday with us."
"Oh, my dear Maurice, your last Sunday with me, God only knows for how long!"
"But you don't mind, do you, mother?"
She looked at him very earnestly. She was a wise woman in her way.
"No, I don't mind," she said; "I will ask her, of course."
"Then that is all right. Her name is Miss Florence Aylmer, and this is her address."
"Aylmer! How strange!"