, I make a point of addressing her
by no other name! When she gets into a rage she looks surprisingly like
the fat little girl of a dozen years back."

"Too bad!" cried Peggy, laughing. "None of that sort of thing while she
is here, remember! No one shall tease my visitors but myself. I'm
simply longing to see the dear old girl, and hear all the news about
everybody. Rob is at The Cedars, they say, so I must wait to see him
there, but Rosalind is in town. Oh, Arthur, do you see much of her? Do
you meet her often? Is she a great beauty, and does every one talk
about her and make a fuss of her wherever she goes, as we used to
imagine they would do when she grew up? Do tell me all about Rosalind!"

Arthur's face stiffened in a curious, unnatural fashion, and his lips
lost their laughing curve, and grew straight and hard. The sparkle died
out of his face, and he looked a boy no longer, but a man, and a man who
had not found his life too easy. He was astonishingly like his father
at that moment, and both mother and sister noted the fact.

"Oh, that would be a long story, and would take up too much time. For
Rosalind's doings, see the society papers," he cried, with an
indifference too elaborate to be genuine. "To-morrow's issue will no
doubt inform you that she is at some big function to-night, wearing a
robe of sky-blue silk, festooned with diamonds and bordered with rubies.
That's the proper style of thing, isn't it, for a society belle? I see
her occasionally. Lord Darcy is the kindest of friends, and I have
always a welcome at his house. I don't go very often, but I meet them
out, and am vouchsafed a dance, or ten minutes' conversation, if nobody
more important is on the scene. Rosalind is an important personage
nowadays, and can't waste her time on the likes of me; but she is
devoted to you, Peg, and will rush round to see you the moment you let
her know that you are at home."

But Peggy set her lips, and privately resolved to be in no hurry to
apprise Rosalind Darcy of her return. No one who considered herself too
grand for Arthur should have the chance of associating with his sister.
Dear, darling Arthur! Did he still care, then? Was Rosalind's
beautiful face still a Will-o'-the-wisp to dazzle and ensnare his heart,
and was it possible that she, or any mortal woman, could have the
hardihood to resist Arthur Saville when he came to woo? Peggy sat
silent, but her heart formed a voiceless prayer--