er, which has been put in elegant order for a possible
bride. Then her trunk is sent up, and Laura flits about as only a woman
can, uttering gracious little sentences, until, finally excusing
herself, she runs down to the carriage and is whirled away upon her
errand.

Mrs. Grandon has followed her son to his room. He is master of the
house and yet he has never been possessor. Almost ten years ago it was
being finished and furnished for the splendid woman in the opposite
room, and by a strange travesty of fate he has brought her here to-day.
But he has no time for retrospection. He hardly hears what his mother
is saying as he stands his little girl on a chair by the window and
glances out.

"Yes," he returns, rather absently. "It will be all right. How
wonderfully lovely this spot is, mother! I had no real conception of
it. What would Aunt Marcia say to see it now? It is worthy of being
handed down to the third and fourth generation."

"What a pity your child is not a boy, Floyd; you would have nothing
more to ask," his mother says, fervently wishing it had been so.

"I would not have Cecil changed," he responds, with almost jealous
quickness. "Where is Jane?" and the young girl lingering in the hall
presents herself. "We shall just shake off a little of the dust of
travel and come down, for I am all curiosity to inspect the place."

"Will this room do for your little girl and her nurse?" asks Mrs.
Grandon. "We hardly knew what arrangements to make----"

"Yes, it is all very nice. Our luggage will be up presently; there was
too much for us," and he smiles. "What are your household
arrangements?"

"Dinner is at six generally. I delayed it awhile to-night, and now I
must go and look after it."

"Thank you for all the trouble." He clasps both of his mother's hands
in his and kisses her again. He has dreaded his return somewhat, and
now he is delighted to be here.

Down-stairs Gertrude and Marcia have had a small skirmish of words.

"So he isn't married," the former had said, triumphantly.

"But engaged, no doubt. He wouldn't bring her here if there was not
something in it."

"I would never forgive her for throwing me over," declares Gertrude.

"But it is something to have been a countess, and she is wonderfully
handsome, not a bit fagged out by a sea voyage. Why, she doesn't look
much older than Laura. Women of that kind always carry all before them,
and men forgive everything to them."

"Floyd doesn't loo