"
"Magnets," said Jock.
"That's just it. All the heavier."
The brothers went upstairs together, and Jock was kept waiting a
little while in the dressing-room, till his mother came out, shutting
the door on Barbara.
"The poor Infanta!" she said. "She is breaking her foolish little
heart over something she said to you. 'As bad as the woman in the
"Black Brunswicker,"' she says, only she didn't mean it. Was it so,
Jock?"
"I had pretty well made up my mind before. Mother, are you vexed
that I did not tell you?"
"You spared me much. Your uncle would never have consented. But oh,
Jock! I'm not a Spartan mother. My heart _will_ bound."
"My colonel said it was right," said Jock; "so did Cameron, and even
Sir James, though he did not like it."
"With such an array of old soldiers on our side we may let the young
ladies rage," said his mother, but she checked her mirth on seeing
how far from a joke their indignation was to her son.
He turned and looked into the fire as he said—-
"When did Sydney write that letter, mother?"
"Before meeting you at the wedding. She has not written since."
"I thought not," muttered Jock, his brow against the mantel-piece.
"No, but Mrs. Evelyn has written such a nice letter, just like
herself, though I did not understand it then.
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