me as
less than naught unless they could be heaped on the altar of the
beloved.

So life went on at Stoke Revel, outwardly even and often dull, while
in reality many subtle changes were taking place below the surface;
changes slight in themselves but not without meaning.

Robinette ran up to her room directly after breakfast one morning and
pinned on her hat as she came downstairs. Mark Lavendar had gone to
London for a few days, but even the dullness of breakfast-table
conversation had not robbed her of her joy in the early sunshine, made
more cheery by the prospect of a walk with Carnaby, with whom she was
now fast friends.

Carnaby looked at her beamingly as they stood together on the steps.
"You're the best turned-out woman of my acquaintance," he said
approvingly, with a laughable struggle for the tone of a middle-aged
man of the world.

"How many ladies of fashion do you know, my child?" enquired
Robinetta, pulling on her gloves.

"I see a lot of 'em off and on," Carnaby answered somewhat huffily,
"and they don't call me a child either!"

"Don't they? Then that's because they're timid and don't dare address
a future Admiral as Infant-in-Arms! Come on, Middy dear, let's walk."

Robinette wore a white serge dress and jacket, and her hat was a rough
straw turned up saucily in two places with black owls' heads. Mrs.
Benson and Little Cummins had looked at it curiously while Robinette
was at breakfast.

"'Tis black underneath and white on top, Mrs. Benson. 'Ow can that be?
It looks as if one 'at 'ad been clapped on another!"

"That's what it is, Cummins. It's a double hat; but they'll do
anything in America. It's a double hat with two black owls' heads, and
I'll wager they charged double price for it!"

"She's a lovely beauty in anythink and everythink she wears," said
Little Cummins loyally.

"May I call you 'Cousin Robin'?" Carnaby asked as they walked along.
"Robinette is such a long name."

"Cousin Robin is very nice, I think," she answered. "As a matter
of fact I ought to be your Aunt Robin; it would be much more
appropriate."

"Aunt be blowed!" ejaculated Carnaby.

"You're very fond of making yourself out old, but it's no go! When I
first heard you were a widow I thought you would be grandmother's
age,--I say--do you think you will marry another time, Cousin Robin?"

"That's a very leading question for a gentleman to put to a lady! Were
you intending to ask me to wait for you, Middy dear?" as