k like a marrying man."

"Much you know about it!" says Marcia, contemptuously. Then hearing her
mother's steps, she rejoins her in the long dining-room, where the meal
is being prepared in a style that befits the handsome mansion. The
table is elegant with plate, cut glass, and china. Mrs. Grandon is
lighter of heart now that she knows she is not to be deposed
immediately. If the child only were a boy there would be no need of
Floyd marrying, and it vexes her.

Laura returns in high good-humor, having done her errand quite to her
satisfaction. The bell rings and they gather slowly. Madame Lepelletier
is more enchanting still in some soft black fabric, with dull gold in
relief. Floyd has washed and brushed and freshened, but still wears his
travelling suit for a very good reason. Cecil is in white, with pale
blue ribbons, which give her a sort of seraphic look. Yet she is tired
with all the jaunting about, and after a while Laura ceases to torment
her with questions, as the conversation becomes more general.

While the dessert is being brought in, Cecil touches her father's arm
gently.

"I am so sleepy," in the lowest of low tones. Indeed, she can hardly
keep her lovely eyes open.

"Will you call Miss Cecil's maid?" he says to the waiter, and, kissing
her, gives her into Jane's arms.

"How beautifully that child behaves!" says Gertrude, with sudden
animation. "I am not fond of children, but I am quite sure I shall like
her."

"I hope you will," her brother answers, with a smile.

"Mr. Grandon deserves much credit," rejoins Madame Lepelletier.
"Fathers are so apt to indulge, and Cecil is extremely bewitching.
Could you really say 'no' to her?" And the lady smiles over to him.

"If it was for her good. But Cecil's aunt must have the credit of her
training." Then he goes back to a former subject, and they sit over
their dessert until dusk, when they adjourn to the drawing-room
opposite, where the lamps are lighted. Gertrude, as usual, takes a
couch. Floyd and his mother pair off, and somehow Laura finds herself
growing extremely confidential with their elegant guest, who soon helps
her to confess that she is on the eve of marriage.

"Of course we had to wait for Floyd to come home," she goes on. "The
property has to be settled, and mamma insists that now Floyd is head of
the family and all that. But I was engaged before papa died, and we
were to have been married in the spring," at which she sighs. "And I do
s