or six and twenty, well looking,
well dressed, and up in all the usages of "the best society." He greets
Mr. Grandon with just the right shade of deference as the elder and a
sort of guardian to his _finance_. He pays his respects to Miss Cecil
with an air that completely satisfies the little lady, it has the
distance about it so congenial to her.

"Floyd," Laura says, with a laugh, "that child is intensely English.
She has the 'insular pride' we hear so much about."

"And English hair and complexion," continues Mr. Delancy; while madame
adds her graceful little meed.

A very pleasant general conversation ensues, followed by an elegant
luncheon, to which Eugene adds a measure of gayety. Afterward the two
gentlemen discuss business, and with several references to Laura the
bridal day is appointed six weeks hence. The marriage they decide will
be in church, and a wedding breakfast at home, quiet, with only a few
friends and relatives, and after a week in Canada they will go to
Newport.

"But how can I ever get ready?" cries Laura in dismay to madame. "Why,
I haven't anything! I shall actually wear you out with questions and
decisions. Oh, do you realize that you are a perfect godsend?" and she
kisses her enthusiastically.

"Yes," says Madame Lepelletier, so softly and sweetly that it is like a
breath of musical accord. "I will settle myself in the city and you
must come to me----"

"In the city!" interrupts Laura, with both dismay and incredulity in
her tone. "My dearest dear, you will not be allowed to leave Grandon
Park, except with myself for keeper, to return as soon as may be."

"But I cannot trespass on your hospitality."

"Mamma, Floyd, will you come and invite Madame Lepelletier to make a
two months' visit? I want her for six full weeks, and then she must
have a little rest."

They overrule all her delicate scruples, though Mrs. Grandon does it
rather against her will. Is it bringing temptation to Floyd's hand,
that perhaps might not reach out otherwise!

That is settled. Floyd's boxes and trunks make their appearance, Eugene
orders the horses, and the four go to drive on this magnificent
afternoon.

"I think," Floyd says to his mother when the sound of wheels has
subsided, "this luggage may as well go to the tower room. I wish----"
Will he not seem ungracious to declare his preferences so soon?

"What?" she asks, a little nervously.

"It would make too much fuss at this crisis to change rooms wi