"Well, has she told you?" were his first words, as Olivia met him with outstretched hands; and then, as she warmly congratulated him, his eyes glowed with feeling. "I have not deserved such a prize, have I, Mrs. Luttrell? but Greta has promised to make the best of me. Will you forgive me if I take her away for a little? My father is most impatient to welcome his new daughter, and he will only excite himself if we keep him waiting." "Go with him, Greta, dear," returned Olivia; "Mr. Alwyn will bring you back to us." And then Greta rose at once, though she looked a little shy. As Olivia stood at the door watching them as they crossed the road, Marcus came up Harbut Street. "Where are those two going?" he asked, curiously. "I thought Miss Williams was to spend the evening with us." Then Olivia linked her arm in his and drew him into the passage. "Oh, do come in, Marcus," she said, breathlessly. "I cannot talk at the street-door, and I have such a lot to tell you." Then Marcus put down his hat and drew off his gloves with exasperating slowness. "We have been married nearly three years," he said, flecking the dust off his coat-collar, "but I never remember the day when, as you so elegantly express it, you had not a 'lot to tell me.'" "Yes, but something has really happened," she returned, ignoring this provoking speech. "Oh, indeed," was the cool answer; "so they have settled it at last, have they? Well, I have changed my opinion lately. Gaythorne may not be quite up to the mark, but he will make a good husband. I suppose he is taking her across for the parental blessing?" And then Olivia admitted that this was the case. "I am so glad that you really do not mind," she said, in a relieved tone; "but I fancied you would not approve. You almost said as much one day." "Oh, even great intellects change their opinions sometimes," returned Marcus, dryly; "Sir Robert Peel and Gladstone, for example. And then most people know their own business best. Perhaps if you were to cross-examine me severely I might own that Alwyn Gaythorne is not the man I should have selected for your interesting friend, but as she has chosen him, she is evidently of another opinion, and this is one thing in his favour, he is thoroughly in love with her, and really, take him all in all, he is not a bad fellow," and Olivia, who understood her husband perfectly, was quite content with this opinion. When Marcus went upstairs to wash his hands, whistling the air of "My old Dutch," she knew he was quite as much excited as she was. When Greta came back she looked a little flushed and agitated, and, at a sign from Alwyn, Olivia took her upstairs. "What is it, dear?" she said, gently, as Greta shed a few tears; "was not Mr. Gaythorne nice to you?"