Cecil allows herself to be kissed this time without resistance but she clings tightly to her father. "What magnificent eyes! true twilight tint, and such hair! Floyd, how odd to think of you as----" "You are warm and tired," Mrs. Grandon is saying. "Your rooms are ready up-stairs." "Don't send away the carriage, Eugene," cries Laura, "I want it a little while." Then she follows the small throng up the broad steps and into the spacious hall, while the visitor is keeping up a delicate little conversation with her hostess. Gertrude looks old and faded beside this regal woman. Perhaps she feels it, for she goes back to her couch and her novel. "Oh," exclaims Eugene, springing up the steps two at a time, "here is Madame Lepelletier's satchel! You left it in the carriage," handing it to her. They are all relieved to actually hear her name. Laura leads her to the state chamber, which has been put in elegant order for a possible bride. Then her trunk is sent up, and Laura flits about as only a woman can, uttering gracious little sentences, until, finally excusing herself, she runs down to the carriage and is whirled away upon her errand. Mrs. Grandon has followed her son to his room. He is master of the house and yet he has never been possessor. Almost ten years ago it was being finished and furnished for the splendid woman in the opposite room, and by a strange travesty of fate he has brought her here to-day. But he has no time for retrospection. He hardly hears what his mother is saying as he stands his little girl on a chair by the window and glances out. "Yes," he returns, rather absently. "It will be all right. How wonderfully lovely this spot is, mother! I had no real conception of it. What would Aunt Marcia say to see it now? It is worthy of being handed down to the third and fourth generation." "What a pity your child is not a boy, Floyd; you would have nothing more to ask," his mother says, fervently wishing it had been so. "I would not have Cecil changed," he responds, with almost jealous quickness. "Where is Jane?" and the young girl lingering in the hall presents herself. "We shall just shake off a little of the dust of travel and come down, for I am all curiosity to inspect the place." "Will this room do for your little girl and her nurse?" asks Mrs. Grandon. "We hardly knew what arrangements to make----" "Yes, it is all very nice. Our luggage will be up presently; there was too much for us," and he smiles. "What are your household arrangements?" "Dinner is at six generally. I delayed it awhile to-night, and now I must go and look after it." "Thank you for all the trouble." He clasps both of his mother's hands in his and kisses her again. He has dreaded his return somewhat, and now he is delighted to be here. Down-stairs Gertrude and Marcia have had a small skirmish of words. "So he isn't married," the former had said, triumphantly. "But engaged, no doubt. He wouldn't bring her here if there was not something in it."