but the liveliest place on earth."

"You are easily pleased," says she, with a rather embarrassed smile.

"He isn't!" says Tommy, breaking into the conversation with great
aplomb. He has been holding on vigorously to Mr. Dysart's right hand for
the last five minutes, after a brief but brilliant skirmish with Mabel
as to the possession of it--a skirmish brought to a bloodless conclusion
by the surrender, on Mr. Dysart's part, of his left hand to the weaker
belligerent. "He hates Miss Maliphant, nurse says, though Lady Baltimore
wants him to marry her, and she's a fine girl, nurse says, an' raal
smart, and with the gift o' the gab, an' lots o' tin----"

"_Tommy!_" says his aunt frantically. It is indeed plain to everybody
that Tommy is now quoting nurse, _au naturel_, and that he is betraying
confidences in a perfectly reckless manner.

"Don't stop him," says Mr. Dysart, glancing at Joyce's crimson cheeks
with something of disfavor. "'What's Hecuba to me, or I to Hecuba?' I
_defy_ you," a little stormily, "to think I care a farthing for Miss
Maliphant or for any other woman on earth--_save one_!"

"Oh, you mustn't press your confidences on me," says she, smiling and
dissembling rather finely; "I know nothing. I accuse you of nothing.
Only, Tommy, you were a little rude, weren't you?"

"I wasn't," says Tommy, promptly, in whom the inborn instinct of
self-defence has been largely developed. "It's true. Nurse says she has
a voice like a cow. Is _that_ true?" turning, unabashed to Dysart.

"She's expected at the Castle, next week. You shall come up and judge
for yourself," says he, laughing. "And," turning to Joyce, "you will
come, too, I hope."

"It is manners to wait to be asked," returns she, smiling.

"Oh, as for that," says he, "Lady Baltimore crossed last night with me
and her husband. And here is a letter for you." He pulls a note of the
cocked hat order out of one of his pockets.

CHAPTER IV.

"Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply."

"An invitation from Lady Baltimore," says Joyce, looking at the big red
crest, and coloring slightly.

"Yes."

"How do you know?" asks she, rather suspiciously.

The young man raises his hands and eyes.

"I _swear_ I had nothing to do with it," says he, "I didn't so much as
hint at it. Lady Baltimore spent her time crossing the Channel in
declaring to all who were well