mission was ever more easily secured.

It was now five o'clock, an hour when the elder lady became restless if
not served with a little tea and attention. Crane rang and ordered tea
for two served in the office, and then sent Smithfield to ask Mrs.
Falkener if he might have a word with her. She and her daughter passed
each other on the threshold.

"How cozy this is," she began as she seated herself by the fire.
"Smithfield keeps the silver bright, but I'm afraid he has no judgment.
Have you seen the man he has engaged instead of that dreadful boy?--why,
he's so old and lame he can hardly get up and down stairs. He'll never
do, Burton, take my word for that."

"I have something more serious to say to you than the discussion of
domestic matters, Mrs. Falkener," said Crane; and for one of the few
times in her life, Mrs. Falkener forgot that the house contained such a
thing as servants. A more important idea took possession of her
attention.

Burton began to speak about romance. He said he did not know exactly how
an older generation than his looked at such questions; for his own part,
he regarded himself in many ways as a practical and hard-headed man, and
yet more and more he found himself gravitating to the belief that
romance, love, the drawing together for mutual strength and happiness of
two individuals, was the only basis for individual life. People talked
of the modern taste for luxury; to his mind there was no luxury like a
congenial companion, no hardship like having to go through life without
it. Love--did Mrs. Falkener believe in love?

"Do I believe in love, my dear Burt?" she cried. "What else is there to
believe in? No girl, no nice girl, ever marries for any other reason.
Oh, they try sometimes to be mercenary, but they don't succeed. I could
never forgive a woman for considering anything else."

"I thought you would feel like that," said Crane. "I thought Cora was
wrong in thinking you would oppose her. For, prudent or not from a
worldly point of view, there is no doubt that she and Lefferts are in
love."

The blow was a cruel one, and perhaps cruelly administered. Mrs.
Falkener, even in the first instant of disaster, saw and took the only
way out. Love, yes. But this was not love, this was a mere infatuation
on one side, and a dark and wicked plot on the other. She would never
forgive Burton, never, for being a party to this scheme to throw her
daughter, her dear Cora, into the arms of this adventu