ing, 'Here's a pretty
picture, Theodora.'

In front of the sparkling crystal arches of the fountain stood Violet,
bending forward, and holding out her hand full of grain to invite the
beautiful bird, which now advanced, now withdrew its rich blue neck,
as in condescension, then raised its crested head in sudden alarm, its
train sweeping the ground in royal splendour. Arthur, no unpicturesque
figure in his loose brown coat, stood by, leaning against the stand
of one of the vases of plants, whose rich wreaths of brightly coloured
blossoms hung down, making a setting for the group; and while Violet by
her blandishments invited the peacock to approach, he now and then, with
smiling slyness, made thrusts at it with her parasol, or excited Skylark
to approach.

'A pretty scene, is it not?' said John.

'Like a Sevres china cup,' Theodora could not help saying.

'Fountain and peacock, and parasol for shepherd's crook, forming a
French Arcadia,' said John, smiling. 'I suppose it would hardly make a
picture. It is too bright.'

Theodora only answered by a sigh, and was turning away, when John added,
'I am glad she has him at last, I was afraid she had a long solitary
morning while you were out with him. I saw you walking up and down so
long.'

'He was talking over his plans,' said Theodora, with an assumption of
sullen dignity.

'I have been wishing to speak to you about that very thing,' said John.
'I think you may be in danger of putting yourself between him and his
wife.'

It was a new thing to her to hear that this was a danger, but, in an
offended manner, she replied, 'I can hardly be accused of that. He
ceases all rational talk about his most important concerns to go to
child's play with her.'

'But why keep her out of the rational talk?'

'That is his concern. He knows what she is capable of, I suppose.'

'I doubt whether he does,' said John; 'but I don't want to interfere
with his behaviour, only to give you a caution. It is natural that you
should wish to have him what he was before. I knew his marriage was a
great blow to you.'

'I knew he would marry,' said Theodora, coldly; for she could not bear
compassion. 'It is the common course of things.'

'And that the wife should be first.'

'Of course.'

'Then would it not be better to bear that in mind, and make up your mind
to it, rather than try to absorb his confidence?'

'He is not bound to consult no one but that child. You would not drive
him bac