oyous, rippling peal:

"O Mr. Dalroyd!" she cried at last, dabbing at her bright eyes with
dainty handkerchief, "O, indeed, sir, here is trifling more to my
mind--nay, prithee loose my hand!"

Mr. Dalroyd obeyed and stepped back rather hastily as the door opened
and the footman announced:

"Major d'Arcy!"

The Major advanced a couple of strides then halted, fumbled with his
laced hat and looked extremely uncomfortable; next moment my lady was
greeting him gaily:

"Welcome, dear Major! You know Mr. Dalroyd, I think--so gay, so witty!
Just now he is at his very gayest and wittiest, he is about telling me
something extreme diverting in regard to my brother, my dear, wilful
Charles--but you have never met my brother, I think, Major d'Arcy?"

"Never, madam!" he answered, bowing over her hand and dropping it
rather as if it had stung him.

"Why then, sir," she laughed, "Mr. Dalroyd shall tell you all about
him. Pray proceed, Mr. Dalroyd."

But hereupon Mr. Dalroyd having acknowledged the Major's stiff bow,
stood fingering the long curls of his peruke and, for once in his life,
felt himself entirely at a loss; as for the Major, he stood in
wondering amazement, staring at my lady's laughing face as if he had
never seen it before in all his days.

"Come, sir, come!" she commanded, viewing Mr. Dalroyd's perplexity with
eyes very bright and malicious, "Charles is for ever playing some
naughty trick or other, tell us his latest."

"Faith, madam," said Mr. Dalroyd at last, "I, like Major d'Arcy, have
never had the good fortune to meet your brother."

"But you have seen him and very lately, I think--yes, I'm sure you
have--confess!"

"Nay indeed, my lady, how--where should I see him----"

"Why with me of course, sir, last night--in the arbour."

Mr. Dalroyd recoiled a slow step, his heavy eyelids fluttered and fell,
then happening to glance at the Major, he saw his face suddenly
transfigured with a radiant joy, beholding which, Mr. Dalroyd's
delicate nostrils twitched again and his long white fingers writhed and
clenched themselves; then he turned upon my lady, seemed about to burst
into passionate speech but bowed instead and strode from the room.

Left alone, the Major dropped his hat and my lady turning back to the
casement, leaned there and began to sing softly to herself, an old,
merry song:

"A young cavalier he rode on his way
Singing heigho, this loving is folly."

"Betty," said the Major humbly