our or so, and it will take
some diplomacy to arrange even that."

Then she tripped up-stairs, leaving the door open, so that Dick,
looking at himself in the glass, wondering, honest fellow, what she
could see in him to like, and thinking what a lucky dog he was,
overheard the following conversation at the threshold of his
step-mother's chamber on the floor above.

A light tap--a smothered "Who's there?" and the silvery tones of the
voice he loved--

"Aunt Agatha--may Mr. Stanmore drive me to Rose and Brilliant's in his
phaeton?"

Something that sounded very like "Certainly not."

"But please, Aunt Agatha," pleaded the voice, "I've got a headache,
and an open carriage will do me so much good, and you can call for me
afterwards, whenever you like, to do our shopping. I sha'n't be five
minutes putting my bonnet on, and the wind's changed, and it's such a
beautiful day!"

Here a door opened, whispers were exchanged, it closed with a bang, a
bell rang, an organ in the street struck up "The Marseillaise," and
ere it had played eight bars, Maud was on the stairs again looking, to
Dick's admiring eyes, like an angel in a bonnet coming straight down
from heaven.

In after-days he often thought of that happy drive--of the pale
beautiful face, in its transparent little bonnet, turned confidingly
upwards to his own, of the winning ways, the playfully imperious
gestures, the sweet caressing voice--of the hope thrilling to his very
heart that perhaps for him might be reserved the blissful lot of thus
journeying with her by his side through life.

As they passed into the Park at Albert Gate, two of his young
companions nodded and took off their hats, elbowing each other, as who
should say, "I suppose that's a case!" How proud Dick felt, and how
happy! The quarter of a mile that brought him to Apsley House seemed
a direct road to Paradise; the man who is always watering the
rhododendrons shone like a glorified being, and the soft west wind
fanned his temples like an air from heaven. How pleasant she was, how
quaint, how satirical, how amusing! Not the least frightened when that
off-horse shied in Piccadilly--not the least impatient (neither, be
sure, was he) when a block of carriages kept them stationary for ten
minutes in the narrow gorge of Bond Street. Long before they stopped
at Rose and Brilliant's it was all over with Dick.

"You're not to get out," said Maud, while they drew up to the door of
that fashionable jewel