140 MISS BADSWORTH, M.F.H. 



the teetotal stories of the inebriate who, having taken the 

 pledge, experiences difficulties in keeping it when thrown 

 amongst boon companions. You have a sneaking regard 

 for a set of cats who are not worthy to wipe your patent 

 leather shoes, which ought to be thick and ill-fitting, only 

 they are not ; there, I've said it, and you must be angry with 

 me if you want to be. I really cannot help it ; I would 

 sooner you visited your wrath upon me than on the memory 

 of poor Uncle Hugo. I've had my hair cut short and I don't 

 like it." 



" But why did you do it, Lavvy ? If there is one 

 fashion — — " 



" Fashion, auntie ! Please don't stare at me, Mr. Mor- 

 gan " (Jack never moved his eyes). " Fashion ! " She 

 felt quite angry that her aunt did not grasp the situation. 

 " Fancy any wom^n who had got hair of her own cutting it 

 off voluntarily in order to wear some one else's ! " 



" They do, my dear." 



" Well, then, they are not women in the true sense of the 

 word." 



"I hardly think you should condemn them so generally," 

 Miss Badsworth said. 



" I do ! " Jack exclaimed heartily. 



For a moment Lavvy glared at him, but he was not the 

 least disconcerted. 



" I can guess your reason," he added. 



Lavvy's wrath evaporated once more ; there is something 

 sustaining in feeling that one has an ally, but she needn't 

 have flushed up to that rosy pitch as she said to her 

 aunt : — 



" I've got to be your niece and secretary, haven't I, 

 auntie ? Well, here I am ; now, wait a moment." 



She disappeared through the folding doors of the back 

 drawing-room, and presently her head only reappeared — the 

 head of a good-looking boy, surmounted by a velvet hunting- 

 cap. 



Again Mr. Morgan might feel shocked if he liked ; but 



