"Mamma's home!" The words smote him like a blow. He remembered Dora's offense--her cold letter, her hurried flight, his own firm resolve never to receive her in his home again--but he had not remembered that the children must love her--that she was part of their lives. He could not drive her memory from their minds. There before him lay the pretty picture of "mamma's home." "This," said Lillian, "is the Elms. See those grand old trees, papa! This is the window of Mamma's room, and this was our study." He looked with wonder. This, then, was Dora's home--the pretty, quaint homestead standing in the midst of the green meadows. As he gazed, he half wondered what the Dora who for fifteen years had lived there could be like. Did the curling rings of black hair fall as gracefully as ever? Had the blushing dimpled face grown pale and still? And then, chasing away all softened thought, came the remembrance of that hateful garden scene. Ah, no, he could never forgive--he could not speak of her even to these, her children! The two pictures were laid aside, and no more was said of framing them. Lord Earle said to himself, after his daughters had retired, that both were charming; but, though he hardly owned it to himself, if he had a preference, it was for brilliant, beautiful Beatrice. He had never seen any one to surpass her. After Lady Helena had left him, he sat by the fire dreaming, as his father long years ago had done before him. It was not too late yet, he thought, to retrieve the fatal mistake of his life. He would begin at once. He would first give all his attention to his estate; it should be a model for all others. He would interest himself in social duties; people who lamented his foolish, wasted youth should speak with warm admiration of his manhood; above all matters he dreamed of great things for his daughters, especially Beatrice. With her beauty and grace, her magnificent voice, her frank, fearless spirit, and piquant, charming wit, she would be a queen of society; through his daughter his early error would be redeemed. Beatrice was sure to marry well; she would bring fresh honors to the grand old race ha had shamed. When the annals of the family told, in years to come, the story of his mistaken marriage, it would be amply redeemed by the grand alliance Beatrice would be sure to contract. His hopes rested upon her and centered in her. As he sat watching the glowing embers, there came to him the thought that what Beatrice was to him he had once been to the father he was never more to see. Ah! If his daughter should be like himself if she should ruin his hopes, throw down the air castle he had built--should love unworthily, marry beneath her, deceive and disappoint him! But no, it should not be--he would watch over her. Lord Earle shuddered at the thought. During breakfast on the morning following his return Lady Helena asked what his plans were for the day--whether he intended driving the girls over to Holte.