problem whether or not she should go to school. She was better away from her mother in her war mood, from the chance ofair-raids, and the impetus to do extravagant things; so he had placed her in a seminary as far West as had seemed to himcompatible with excellence, and had missed her horribly. Fleur! He had never regretted the somewhat outlandish name by whichat her birth he had decided so suddenly to call her — marked concession though it had been to the French. Fleur! A prettyname — a pretty child! But restless — too restless; and wilful! Knowing her power too over her father! Soames oftenreflected on the mistake it was to dote on his daughter. To get old and dote! Sixty-five! He was getting on; but he didn’tfeel it, for, fortunately perhaps, considering Annette’s youth and good looks, his second marriage had turned out a coolaffair. He had known but one real passion in his life — for that first wife of his — Irene. Yes, and that fellow, his CousinJolyon, who had gone off with her, was looking very shaky, they said. No wonder, at seventy-two, after twenty years of athird marriage!

Soames paused a moment in his march to lean over the railings of the Row. A suitable spot for reminiscence, half-waybetween that house in Park Lane which had seen his birth and his parents’ deaths, and the little house in Montpellier Squarewhere thirty-five years ago he had enjoyed his first edition of matrimony. Now, after twenty years of his second edition,that old tragedy seemed to him like a previous existence — which had ended when Fleur was born in place of the son he hadhoped for. For many years he had ceased regretting, even vaguely, the son who had not been born; Fleur filled the bill inhis heart. After all, she bore his name; and he was not looking forward at all to the time when she would change it. Indeed,if he ever thought of such a calamity, it was seasoned by the vague feeling that he could make her rich enough to purchaseperhaps and extinguish the name of the fellow who married her — why not, since, as it seemed, women were equal to men