"Listen, Estelle," said Lord Linleigh; "that is our welcome home." Listening to the joyous bells, watching the last golden gleam die out in the western sky, no dream of tragedy to come disturbed them. "Home at last," said the earl, as the carriage stopped. "I really think, Estelle, I am the happiest man in the world." He looked wistfully at his wife's face--it was white as death. "My darling," he whispered, as he led her into the house, "for my sake try to cheer up. Do not sadden the happiest hour of my life." She made a violent effort to arouse herself. She returned with her usual high and gentle courtesy the greetings of the domestics, and walked with graceful steps to the library; then she hardly knew what took place. She saw a face and a figure before her lovelier than the loveliest dream of an artist. She saw two white arms around her husband's neck, while a voice that made her heart thrill said: "Welcome home, dear papa--welcome home!" "I must bear it," she thought, "for his sake." Then the beautiful face was looking in her own. Oh, Heaven! that she should bear such pain, such joy, yet live. A soft voice said: "Welcome home, dear Lady Linleigh. I hope you will let me love you very much." She felt as though she held her heart in her own hands when she kissed the white brow, saying: "I am sure to love you very much." The earl, who was watching her closely, saw that she had just as much as she could bear--it was time to interfere; so he took Mattie by the hand and led her to the countess. He introduced her in a few kindly words, and then Lady Linleigh replied: "I remember you, my dear, though you have probably forgotten me. I saw you when you were quite a little child." "I do remember you," said Mattie, gratefully. Then Lord Linleigh interfered again. "Estelle," he said, "we are just ten minutes behind our time. You would like to change your traveling dress." She looked at him like one roused from a dream, hardly seeming at first to understand him; then she walked slowly from the room. Lord Linleigh followed her, leaving the two girls alone. "I think she will like me," said Lady Doris, "and it will be really a boon to me to have such a graceful, high-bred lady in the house. I shall study her, imitate her. Now, Mattie, does she not, as I said before, seem to move to the hidden rhythm of some sweet music?" "Yes, she gives me exactly that impression. But how pale she is, Doris, and her hands trembled. She looked as though she was going to faint." "She is not strong--papa told me so--and traveling has perhaps tired her. Do you think she will like me, Mattie?" The tone of voice was very anxious. Mattie looked up quickly. "You will say I am full of foolish fancies, Doris, but do you know I could not help thinking that she loved you; she looked as though she did. Her eyes had quite a strange light in them as they rested on your face, and the expression on hers was wonderful."