sity of her
daughter's feelings. But the fact might not have mattered if it had
never been told. Madeline might have overcome this love for Mr.
Graham, and all might have been well if she had never mentioned
it. But now the mischief was done. She had acknowledged to her
mother,--and, which was perhaps worse, she had acknowledged to
herself,--that her heart was gone, and Lady Staveley saw no cure for
the evil. Had this happened but a few hours earlier she would have
spoken with much less of encouragement to Peregrine Orme.

And Felix Graham was not only in the house, but was to remain there
for yet a while longer, spending a very considerable portion of his
time in the drawing-room. He was to come down on this very day at
three o'clock, after an early dinner, and on the next day he was
to be promoted to the dining-room. As a son-in-law he was quite
ineligible. He had, as Lady Staveley understood, no private fortune,
and he belonged to a profession which he would not follow in the only
way by which it was possible to earn an income by it. Such being
the case, her daughter, whom of all girls she knew to be the most
retiring, the least likely to speak of such feelings unless driven to
it by great stress,--her daughter had positively declared to her that
she was in love with this man! Could anything be more hopeless? Could
any position be more trying?

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" she said, almost wringing her hands in
her vexation,--"No, my darling I am not angry," and she kissed her
child and smoothed her hair. "I am not angry; but I must say I think
it very unfortunate. He has not a shilling in the world."

"I will do nothing that you and papa do not approve," said Madeline,
holding down her head.

"And then you know he doesn't think of such a thing himself--of
course he does not. Indeed, I don't think he's a marrying man at
all."

"Oh, mamma, do not talk in that way;--as if I expected anything. I
could not but tell you the truth when you spoke of Mr. Orme as you
did."

"Poor Mr. Orme! he is such an excellent young man."

"I don't suppose he's better than Mr. Graham, mamma, if you speak of
goodness."

"I'm sure I don't know," said Lady Staveley, very much put beside
herself. "I wish there were no such things as young men at all.
There's Augustus making a fool of himself." And she walked twice the
length of the room in an agony of maternal anxiety. Peregrine Orme
had suggested to her what she would feel if Noni