CHAPTER V.

"Love is enough: cherish life that abideth

Lest ye die ere ye know him, and curse and misname him;
And what is the power of his might that ye blame him
For his rest grown a sword, and his bliss grown a fire?"

MORRIS.

BEATRICE was flitting about her new drawing-room one evening in the following spring, in all the pretty anxiety of a young housewife about to give her first dinner-party. Eric opened the door and put his head in with a laugh.

"Dressed already, you little peacock?"

"Oh, Eric, you'll be so late. How could you be so long, you very naughty man!”

"Couldn't help it, my dear; there was a German count or duke, or something, who would insist on examining the apparatus. It was an induction coil, and I was afraid he would get a discharge if I took my eyes off him. Those fine people have no sense of time.

"How does the room look? Is it pretty?"

"A very nice frame for my new picture: not an old master, but a young mistress," he said.

"Oh! you insulting man, always scoffing at my

twenty-one years! as if I could help it. Now do go and dress. Shall I come? I want to see the list."

"Come along, then. Awfully professional, this party. Look here, I want you to be friendly with Mrs. Inglefield; she is a very nice woman.'

"You take her down?-why?"

"Because she is Lord Moreham's daughter. I knew her before she married, and Inglefield, too. He is a good fellow, but sentimental; full of theories." Eric broke off, proceeding rapidly with his dressing. Beatrice was studying the list.

"And these three Professors, what do they profess?"

"Oh, science; different branches. You remember Fane."

"Oh yes, indeed," with sudden gravity. "He was so kind last year. What is his wife like?" "A comfortable, cheery body."

"I wish I knew more about science and all those things, Eric. I can't think why you don't teach

me.

Eric burst into a fit of laughter. "Science, and all those things! very well. I'll give up the Royal Society and the Institution then, and we'll begin with biology. Twelve hours a day."

Oh, nonsense; I don't want to be a Professor, like you. I want to get the results of all your work without any of the trouble-don't you see?" "Modest! Well, so you do; so you did in that lecture last week."

"Which I couldn't understand one word of, Eric.

G

I liked the experiments, those pretty rainbows and five-barred gates."

"You comical child! So they are, very like fivebarred gates. I'll give you the 'Spectrum Analysis' to read if like."

you

"Where is it? You are sure to forget, and I will take it."

"No!" said Eric, abruptly. "Don't you touch my books. Some of them are not fit for you. I mean in the study; those in the drawing-room are all right."

"Oh, you Bluebeard!

Forbidden knowledge!

How about the rights of women?"

I always said that the women with homes and protectors" began Eric, unable to finish his sentence, as she kissed him mischievously, and, taking his brush out of his hand, proceeded to arrange his hair.

"There now, leave off. These are my rights. I like your big waves to sweep right back, so. You have a grand forehead, Sir Eric Grant."

"You are an absurd little kitten, my lady."

"There! you look quite heroic. Come down and look at the dinner-table."

66

Why, the dinner isn't there yet, I hope, or it will be gloriously cold."

"No, you absent, preoccupied, stupid old Professor. Don't you know that people take a modest pride in their dinner-tables, and that I want ours to be lovely?"

"Oh, really! No, I never noticed particularly. You mean all these little dots of flowers, and these

silver cups not meant to be used? It's a funny fashion. I am sure I had forgotten the cups. I remember this one I won at Bonn, and this other was given me by an Italian nobleman whose son was my pupil."

"Ah! I thought they must have stories. Oh! hark there's the bell!"

Eric put his head out into the hall as the door was opened. "Inglefield! I thought so: you have caught us off duty, studying our dinner-table. I am having a lesson. Come and see, Mrs. Inglefield."

Beatrice saw a tall, fair, gentle-mannered woman, who with ready tact accepted the position, and set her at her ease at once.

How exceedingly

"Forgive me, Lady Grant. pretty! I hope you are profiting by your lesson, Sir Eric: what is it about?"

"He didn't know dinner-tables ever looked pretty without the dinner," said Beatrice.

"Oh! what an insult to my entertainments! He has dined with us before now."

"He is so unobservant," said Beatrice, apologetically, while the gentlemen laughed, and Eric said, "I must have been looking at you, Mrs. Inglefield."

"Or fighting with Denys?" said Mrs. Inglefield; "that is more in character, is it not, Denys?"

"With Grant, or with me?" asked Mr. Inglefield. "With both, pugnacious beings that you are," she replied.

"Won't you take off your shawl, Mrs. Inglefield?" shyly suggested Beatrice.

"Thank you," following her into the study. "What a learned abode! one's shawl seems quite out of place. You haven't much to do with this room, Lady Grant?

"Oh no; Eric is accustomed to work alone, you see; and his scientific people come to him here. I once put a specimen glass on the table, but it was knocked over."

Mrs. Inglefield laughed, a soft merry laugh, which brought the gentlemen in.

"Lady Grant was saying she had tried to bestow a little sweetness on your light here, in the shape of a specimen glass, at once suppressed."

"Couldn't be permitted," said Eric. "I should have her making work impossible."

"I am sure a flower is never out of place," said Mr. Inglefield.

"Just like your sentiment, that remark," retorted Eric. "You don't know what work means.' The bell rang again, and the four ran upstairs laughing.

The whole party knew each other well, and Beatrice found herself accepted at once as one of themselves. Dr. Fane and his wife greeted her as a friend; and her neighbours at dinner talked to her so persistently, that she could only occasionally catch a half sentence, uttered with her husband's usual vehemence, of the discussions that were in full progress at his end of the table.

"Third-hand evidence; worthless!" she heard. Evidently Mrs. Inglefield protested gently, but was swept aside with, "Contradicted by all experience.