"My dear son. I don't like to begin with worries. It is so sweet to have you back in the home. May you always stay with us."
"I don't mind the worries, mother," he said tenderly; "I am here to help you. What is it?
"It is only that, although we have inherited the title and estates, we are not there. We will be received, of course, but at first only by those who have axes to grind. There are so many such, and it is hard to protect one's self from them. For instance, there is Lady Willisbeck. Her own set have cut her completely for—certain reasons—there is no need to retail unpleasant gossip,—but she was one of the first to call. Her daughter, Lady Isabel, gave Laura that dog,—but all the more because Laura and Lady Isabel were in school together, and were on the same hockey team, they will have that excuse for clinging to us like burs.
"Lady Willisbeck would like very much now, for her daughter's sake, to win back her place in society, although she did not seem to value it for herself. Long before her mother's life became common talk,—because she was infatuated with your cousin Lyon, Lady Isabel chose Laura for her chum, and the two have worked up a very romantic situation out of the affair. You see I have cause for anxiety, David."
He still held her hand, looking kindly in her face. "Is Lady Isabel the right sort?" he asked.
"What do you mean by 'the right sort,' David? She isn't like her