the result being that Lady Harrowfield had not always
shed the light of her countenance upon the festivities.

Lord Harrowfield drew most of his income from a great, populous
manufacturing city in the north, so neither he nor his countess had need
to smile at mere wealth.

And Lady Harrowfield had said, frankly, "Let me know if it is a utility
party, Patrick, or for just ourselves, because if you are going to have
these creatures I sha'n't come."

This time, however, she had not been so exigent. It happened to suit
some other arrangements of hers to spend Whitsuntide at Beechleigh, so
she consented to chaperon Morella Winmarleigh without asking for a list
of the guests.

Hector had never conformed to any special set; he went here, there, and
everywhere, and was welcomed by all. But somehow, until this occasion,
Beechleigh had never seen him within its gates, although Lady
Harrowfield had praised him, and Mildred had sighed for him in vain.

He saw the situation at a glance when he came into the saloon: Josiah
and Theodora sitting together, neglected by every one but Barbara. They
could not have been more than half an hour in the house, he knew, for he
had found out when the trains got in.

Barbara was a good sort; he remembered now he had met her before
somewhere. She had evidently taken to the new cousin; but Mildred had
not.

Hitherto Mildred had been the undisputed and acknowledged beauty of
every party, and she resented Theodora's presence because she was
clever enough not to have any illusions upon the matter of their mutual
looks. She saw Theodora was beautiful and young and charming, and had
every advantage of perfect Paris clothes. Uncle Patrick had been a fool
to ask her, and she must take measures to suppress her at once.

Sir Patrick, on the other hand, was very pleased with himself for having
given the invitation. He had made inquiries, and found that Josiah was a
man of great and solid wealth, with interests in several things which
could be of particular use to himself, and he meant to obtain what he
could out of him.

As for Theodora, no living man could do anything but admire her, and Sir
Patrick was not an Irishman for nothing.

Hector behaved with tact; he did not at once fly to his darling, but
presently she found him beside her. And the now habitual thrill ran over
her when he came near.

He saw the sudden, convulsive clasp of her little hands together; he
knew how he moved her, and it