is so. I believe I pity everybody."

"That's a good way," responded her husband. "Then you will be sure to
hit right somewhere."

"I will remember that," returned Lady Dacre between vexation and
laughing, "and lay it up against you, too. But, poor fellow, he is so in
love with his pretty cousin, and she with him."

"Poor cousin! Is she like a certain lady I know who chose to be married
in a dowdy dress and a poke bonnet for fear of losing her husband
altogether?"

But Lady Dacre did not hear a word. She was listening to a mouse behind
the wainscotting, and spying out a nail-hole which she was sure was big
enough for it to come out of, and she insisted that her husband should
ring and have the place stopped up.

When the party reached Seascape the summer clouds that floated over the
ocean were beginning to glow with the warmth of coming sunset. The sea
lay so tranquil that the flash of the waves on the pebbly shore sounded
like the rythmic accompaniment to the beautiful vision of earth and sky,
and the boom of the water against the cliffs beyond came now and then,
accentuating this like the beat of a heavy drum muffled or distant. The
mansion at Seascape with its forty rooms, although new, was so
substantial and stately that as they drove up the avenue Lady Dacre,
accustomed to grandeur, ran her quick eye over its ample dimensions, its
gambrel roof, its immense chimneys, its generous hall door, and turning
to Archdale, without her condescension, she asked him how he had
contrived to combine newness and dignity.

"One sees it in nature sometimes," he answered. "Dignity and youth are a
fascinating combination."

In the hall stood a lady whom Archdale looked at with pride. He was fond
of his mother without recognizing a certain likeness between them. She
was dressed elegantly, although without ostentation, and she came
towards her guests with an ease as delightful as their own. Stephen
going to meet her, led her forward and introduced her. Lady Dacre looked
at her scrutinizingly, and gave a little nod of satisfaction.

"I am pleased to come to see you Madam Archdale," she said in answer to
the other's greeting. There was a touch of sadness in her face and the
clasp of her hand had a silent sympathy in it. It was as if the two
women already made moan over the desolation of the man in whom they both
were interested, though in so different degrees. But the tact of both
saved awkwardness in their meeting.

Archdale