His heart warmed to his son and heir--no one knew how dearly he loved him, nor how completely his life was wrapped up in him. Then he heard a cab drive up to the door. Surely that must be Lance. He listened in impatient suspense--he heard whispering in the outer hall, as though some consultation were being held. "What in the world is the boy making a mystery over?" he asked himself. Then he started from his chair in unutterable amazement. Before him stood Lance, Lord Chandos, holding the hands of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. CHAPTER X. A SHOCKED FATHER. "I am quite sure of one thing," Lord Chandos had said, as they drew near London, "and that is, Leone--if my father sees you before my mother has time to interfere, it will be all right. He can resist anything but a pretty face--that always conquers him." "I wish," said Leone, with a sigh, "that I were less proud. Do you know, Lance, that I cannot endure to hear you speak as though I were to be received as a great favor. I wonder why I am so proud? I am a farmer's niece, and you are the son of a powerful earl, yet I--please do not be offended; I cannot help it--I feel quite as good as you." He laughed aloud. There was nothing he enjoyed better than this proud frankness of hers, which would never yield to or worship rank or title. "I am glad to hear it, Leone," he replied. "For my own part, I think you very much better than myself. I have no fear, if my father sees you first, and that is why I have telegraphed to him to meet us at Dunmore House." "But," she insisted, "suppose that he does not like me--what shall we do then?" "Why," he replied, "the right and proper thing for me to do then will be to try to love you, if possible, even better than I do now. Leone, the first thing we must do is to drive to one of the court milliners; no matter what follows, your dress must be attended to at once--first impressions are everything. You look royally beautiful in all that you wear, but I would much rather that my father saw you in a proper costume. Suppose we drive to a milliner's first, and choose a handsome dress, and all things suitable, then we can go to the Queen's Hotel; the trunks can be sent after us. We can dine there; and when you have dressed _a la_ Lady Chandos, we will go to Dunmore House, and carry everything before us." He did as he had said. They drove first to Madame Caroline's. Lord Chandos was accustomed to the princely style of doing things. He sent for madame, who looked up in wonder at his fair young face. "This is my wife," he said, "Lady Chandos. We have been in the country and she wants everything new, in your best style."