"We seldom disagree, James, but I must own I am glad of it. What could be better than for Jeannie and Jack to marry? She is certain to be much run after. Whilst we have been away I have been kept in continual dread lest some mere adventurer should succeed in gaining her affections. It is wonderful how people get to know about you and your concerns, no matter how far you may be from home. Quite unintentionally, I overheard conversations which were never meant for my ears, and I know that your position and Jeannie's probable fortune were freely discussed. One of the speakers had the impertinence to say that the little heiress would be a great catch for somebody. Think of that, James," added Mrs. Bellew, indignantly.

"I have not a word against Jack Corry. He is, as a whole, a steady, right-principled young man, handsome enough to mate with our bonnie Jeannie, and whilst he is very kind, he is by no means weak of will, but—"

"I do not see that there is room for a but in regard to Jack. We have known him all his life; he has ample means, and comes of a good family. If he and Jeannie care for each other, and in due time marry, we shall keep her near us, and have a son to our own liking. Think, James, what a stay it would be if we have to go away again for the winter, for Jeannie to go as an engaged girl. I should not like to spend another season like the two last, and without you."

Mrs. Bellew sighed, and looked troubled at the remembrance. She had gone through a most painful experience, some of the details of which she had kept from her husband, in order to spare him anxiety.

Jeannie's health, though such as to render the change imperative, had not been of a kind to prevent her from mixing in the society she and her mother were placed amongst by reason of their hotel life. Even during the first winter the girl's head had been a little turned by the attentions she received, though she was only in her seventeenth year. She was pretty enough to attract them, though probably she owed a large share of the notice she received to the report of her father's wealth, and the fact of her being an only child and his heiress.

Mrs. Bellew had found her position a most difficult one. Her daughter must not be unduly excited, for fear of ill consequences. She had already become accustomed to following her own sweet will when at home, because of her position and the over fondness of her parents, and her mother was in equal dread of contradicting Jeannie and of giving way to the new whims born of her novel surroundings.

To the girl, accustomed to constant oversight, it seemed a new and delightful amusement to baffle Mrs. Bellew's efforts to continue it, and the residence in a large hotel offered endless opportunities for evading her mother. The practice, begun in a spirit of fun, was continued in a less innocent one, and Mrs. Bellew was pained beyond measure to find that Jeannie had spent many hours in undesirable companionship, and that the gossips were beginning to talk of "the little heiress," and couple her name with that of an idle sojourner under the same roof who was said to be looking out for a young wife with money.

Happily for the girl, the acquaintance was promptly ended. Apart from the gossip alluded to, no harm followed. Jeanie had acted thoughtlessly, and been amused by the talk of one who had seen much, and could talk brilliantly, and who, though a mere butterfly so far as the world's work was concerned, was nothing worse.

The second winter Miss Bellew seemed well able to take care of herself; but her mother could not help feeling that the sweet artlessness of her child was gone, and that at eighteen Jeannie was a very worldly young person, and rapidly becoming a very heartless one, though as a rule she was admired for her charming simplicity and girlishness, the semblance of which she still kept up.

With such memories it was not wonderful that Mrs. Bellew looked forward with glad anticipation to the probability of an engagement between Jeannie and Jack Corry as a happy settlement of all her difficulties, and did not like her husband's "but," when his attentions were alluded to. It came again, however.