ice of dignity; "but now you must
come away with me at once and help to keep Louis from marrying that
horrid Mrs. Arlington, as he swears he will. And he is defying his
grandfather, who may have a fit any moment and die--he is so angry--or
else kill Louis, I don't know which. As I came out of the door I heard
the Earl call out that he would take the dog-whip to him and thrash him
within an inch of his life for an insolent puppy. And you know how proud
Louis is. So you must come instantly with me and put a stop to it. You
know he will listen to you. He won't to me--he pushed me aside, telling
me not to meddle with men's business, when his grandfather declared that
he would disinherit him of every penny he could lay his hands upon, and
leave him with the bare title and as poor as Job."

"But," said Patsy, holding back, "Louis would not care a bit what I
said. Why should he? If he wants to marry Mrs. Arlington, what can I say
to keep him from doing it?"

The poor lady flopped spongily upon her knees, and taking hold of
Patsy's short morning-frock, she besought her to be kind to the most
unfortunate of mothers.

"You must come back with me," she wailed, growing more insistent; "you
are the only one he really cares about. He used to say so even
when--when I did not want him to say it. You have influence, and he will
listen to you--and it will kill me if he breaks with his grandfather for
the sake of that--woman! I believe the very sight of you would make him
forget about that minx. Why, she is nearly as old as I am--besides her
history!"

"I can have nothing to do with that, Lady Lucy," said Patsy, who saw no
way of refusing. "But if you like I will come and stay a day or two at
Raincy House, since you are good enough to ask me. It is no use talking
to Louis now. But perhaps we can manage in some other way. At any rate
that is the best I can think of. At lunch I shall speak to Miss Aline
and the Princess, and if you send the carriage for me this afternoon I
shall be ready."

And the poor mother wept joyfully over her till Patsy's nice
morning-gown hung about her all limp and bedripped.

"Thank you--thank you, dear," she said, when she had recovered a little
of her voice; "I feel that my boy is saved."

"I can only do what I can, but remember, I am not going to be married
offhand either to Louis or anybody else. However, I don't mind being the
brave, bold Newfoundland dog, who swims in and saves poor Louis from the
w