"Oh, Val! your father left you better off than that!"

"But so much of it went, Anne," was the gloomy answer. "I never
understood the claims that came in against me, for my part. Edward had no
debts to speak of; but then look at his allowance."

"He was the eldest son," she gently said.

"I know that. I am not wishing myself in Edward's place, or he out of it.
I heartily wish him health and a long life to wear his honours; it is no
fault of his that he should be rolling in riches, and I a martyr to
poverty. Still, one can't help feeling at odd moments, when the shoe's
pinching awfully, that the system is not altogether a just one."

"Was that a sincere wish, Val Elster?"

Val wheeled round on Lady Maude, from whom the question came. She had
stolen up to them unperceived, and stood there in her radiant beauty, her
magnificent dark eyes and her glowing cheeks set off by a little
coquettish black-velvet hat.

"A sincere wish--that my brother should live long to enjoy his honours!"
echoed Val, in a surprised tone. "Indeed it is. I hope he will live to a
green old age, and leave goodly sons to succeed him."

Maude laughed. A brighter hue stole into her face, a softer shade to her
eyes: she saw herself, as in a vision, the goodly mother of those goodly
sons.

"Are you going to wear _that_?" she asked, touching the knot of ribbon in
Miss Ashton's hands with her petulant fingers. "They are Lord Hartledon's
colours."

"I shall wear it on Monday. Lord Hartledon gave it to me."

A rash avowal. The competitors, in a sort of joke, had each given away
one knot of his own colours. Lady Maude had had three given to her; but
she was looking for another worth them all--from Lord Hartledon. And
now--it was given, it appeared, to Anne Ashton! For her very life she
could not have helped the passionate taunt that escaped from her, not in
words, but in tone:

"To _you_!"

"Kissing goes by favour," broke from the delicate lips of Val Elster, and
Lady Maude could have struck him for the significant, saucy expression of
his violet-blue eyes. "Edward loves Anne better than he ever loved his
sisters; and for any other love--_that's_ still far enough from his
heart, Maude."

She had recovered herself instantly; cried out "Yes" to those in the
distance, as if she heard a call, and went away humming a tune.

"Val, she loves your brother," whispered Anne.

"Do you think so? I do sometimes; and again I'm puzzled. She acts well
if