his gentle, chivalrous manner,
his earnest words, his deferential attention to herself, his
affectionate devotion to Lady Earle.

There was not a braver or more gallant man in England than this young
heir of Earlescourt. He inherited the personal beauty and courage of
his race. He gave promise of a splendid manhood; and no one knew how
proudly Lord Earle had rejoiced in that promise.

In her calm stately way, Valentine liked him; she even loved him, and
would have been happy as his wife. She enjoyed his keen, intellectual
powers and his originality of thought. Even the "dreadful politics,"
that scared and shocked his father, amused her.

Ronald, whose heart was full of the pretty little wife he dared neither
see nor write to, gave no heed to Valentine's manner; it never occurred
to him what construction could be put upon his friendly liking for her.

Chapter VII

The day came for the grand ball, and during breakfast the ladies
discussed the important question of bouquets; from that the
conversation changed to flowers. "There are so many of them," said
Valentine, "and they are all so beautiful, I am always at a loss which
to choose."

"I should never hesitate a moment," said Ronald, laughingly. "You will
accuse me, perhaps of being sentimental, but I must give preference to
the white lily-bells. Lilies of the valley are the fairest flowers
that grow."

Lady Earle overheard the remark; no one else appeared to notice it, and
she was not much surprised when Valentine entered the ball room to see
white lilies in her fair hair, and a bouquet of the same flowers,
half-shrouded by green leaves, in her hand.

Many eyes turned admiringly upon the calm, stately beauty and her white
flowers. Ronald saw them. He could not help remarking the exquisite
toilet, marred by no obtrusive colors, the pretty lily wreath and
fragrant bouquet. It never occurred to him that Valentine had chosen
those delicate blossoms in compliment to him. He thought he had never
seen a fairer picture than this magnificent blonde; then she faded from
his mind. He looked round on those fair and noble ladies, thinking
that Dora's shy, sweet face was far lovelier than any there. He looked
at the costly jewels, the waving plumes, the sweeping satins, and
thought of Dora's plain, pretty dress. A softened look came into his
eyes, as he pictured his shy, graceful wife. Some day she, too, would
walk through these gorgeous rooms, and then woul