know me without
their father's name; and, besides, he had not been so kind to you that
I should wish to let him have anything to do with them! I am afraid I
ought not to have said that," she added, returning to something of her
meek softness; "but indeed I was so angry, I did not know what I was
about. I hope it will not make him angry with you."

"Never mind me," said Colonel Keith, kindly. "Indeed, Lady Temple, it
is a wonderful compliment to you that he should have been ready to
undertake such a family."

"I don't want such compliments! And, oh!" and here her eyes widened with
fright, "what shall I do? He only said my feelings did me honour, and he
would be patient and convince me. Oh, Colonel Keith, what shall I do?"
and she looked almost afraid that fate and perseverance would master her
after all, and that she should be married against her will.

"You need do nothing but go on your own way, and persist in your
refusal," he said in the calm voice that always reassured her.

"Oh, but pray, pray never let him speak to me about it again!"

"Not if I can help it, and I will do my best. You are quite right, Lady
Temple. I do not think it would be at all advisable for yourself or
the children, and hardly for himself," he added, smiling. "I think the
mischief must all have been done by that game at whist."

"Then I'll never play again in my life! I only thought he was an old
man that wanted amusing--." Then as one of the children peeped in at the
window, and was called back--"O dear! how shall I ever look at Conrade
again, now any one has thought I could forget his father?"

"If Conrade knew it, which I trust he never will, he ought to esteem it
a testimony to his mother."

"Oh, no, for it must have been my fault! I always was so childish, and
when I've got my boys with me, I can't help being happy," and the tears
swelled again in her eyes. "I know I have not been as sad and serious as
my aunt thought I ought to be, and now this comes of it."

"You have been true, have acted nothing," said Colonel Keith, "and that
is best of all. No one who really knew you could mistake your feelings.
No doubt that your conduct agrees better with what would please our dear
Sir Stephen than if you drooped and depressed the children."

"Oh, I am glad you say that," she said, looking up, flushed with
pleasure now, and her sweet eyes brimming over. "I have tried to think
what he would like in all I have done, and you know I can't h