ould have said so at the time."

"Mamma, you know I was strongly against it."

Mrs. Tempest shrugged her shoulders as who should say, "This is too
much!"

"I know your dress cost a small fortune, and that you danced every
waltz, Violet," she answered, "that is about all I do know."

"Very well, mamma, let us accept all the invitations. Let us be as
merry as grigs. Perhaps it will make papa more comfortable in Paradise
to know how happy we are without him. He won't be troubled by any
uneasy thoughts about our grief, at all events," added Vixen, with a
stifled sob.

"How irreverently you talk. Mr. Scobel would be dreadfully shocked to
hear you." said Mrs. Tempest.

The invitations were all accepted, and Mrs. Tempest for the rest of the
winter was in a flutter about her dresses. She was very particular as
to the exact shade of silver-gray or lavender which might be allowed to
relieve the sombre mass of black; and would spend a whole morning in
discussing the propriety of a knot of scarlet ribbon, or a border of
gold passementerie.

They went to Ellangowan Park and did homage to the wonderful orchid,
and discussed Roderick's engagement to the Duke's only daughter.
Everybody said that it was Lady Jane's doing, and there were some who
almost implied that she had died on purpose to bring about the happy
conjuncture. Violet was able to talk quite pleasantly about the
marriage, and to agree with everybody's praises of Lady Mabel's beauty,
elegance, good style, and general perfection.

Christmas and the New Year went by, not altogether sadly. It is not
easy for youth to be full of sorrow. The clouds come and go, there are
always glimpses of sunshine. Violet was grateful for the kindness that
greeted her everywhere among her old friends, and perhaps a little glad
of the evident admiration accorded to her beauty in all circles. Life
was just tolerable, after all. She thought of Roderick Vawdrey as of
something belonging to the past; something which had no part, never
would have any part, in her future life. He too was dead and passed
away, like her father. Lady Mabel's husband, the master of Briarwood
_in esse_, and of Ashbourne _in posse_, was quite a different being
from the rough lad with whom she had played at battledore and
shuttlecock, billiards, croquet, and rounders.

Early in February Mrs. Tempest informed her daughter that she was going
to give a dinner.

"It will seem very dreadful without dearest Edward," s