The New Magdalen

"Go to the smoking-room," she said, giving him a push toward the door.

"Away with you, and cultivate the favorite vice of the nineteenth

century." Horace attempted to express his gratitude. "Go and smoke!" was

all she said, pushing him out. "Go and smoke!"

Left by herself, Lady Janet took a turn in the room, and considered a

little.

Horace's discontent was not unreasonable. There was really no excuse for

the delay of which he complained. Whether the young lady had a special

motive for hanging back, or whether she was merely fretting because she

did not know her own mind, it was, in either case, necessary to come to

a distinct understanding, sooner or later, on the serious question of

the marriage. The difficulty was, how to approach the subject without

giving offense. "I don't understand the young women of the present

generation," thought Lady Janet. "In my time, when we were fond of a

man, we were ready to marry him at a moment's notice. And this is an age

of progress! They ought to be readier still."

Arriving, by her own process of induction, at this inevitable

conclusion, she decided to try what her influence could accomplish, and

to trust to the inspiration of the moment for exerting it in the right

way. "Grace!" she called out, approaching the conservatory door.

The tall, lithe figure in its gray dress glided into view, and stood

relieved against the green background of the winter-garden.

"Did your ladyship call me?"

"Yes; I want to speak to you. Come and sit down by me."

With those words Lady Janet led the way to a sofa, and placed her

companion by her side.