"It is from Edgar," said Mrs. Atheling, far too proud and pleased to keep her happiness to herself. "And, John, I am going to have a little lunch-party to-day at two o'clock; and I do wish thou wouldst make it in thy way to be present." "I won't. And I would like to know who is coming here. I won't have all kinds and sorts sitting at my board, and eating my bread and salt--and I never heard tell of a good wife asking people to do that without even mentioning their names to her husband--and--" "I am quite ready to name everybody I ask to thy board, John. There will be thy own son Edgar Atheling, and Mr. Cecil North, and thy wife Maude Atheling, and thy daughter Kitty. Maybe, also, Lord Exham and Miss Vyner. Kitty says she has a letter from her." "I told thee once and for all, I had forbid Edgar Atheling to come to my house again until I asked him to do so." "This isn't thy house, John. It is only a rented roof. Thou mayst be sure Edgar will never come near Atheling till God visits thee and gives thee a heart like His own to love thy son. Thou hast never told Edgar to keep away from the Vyner mansion, and thou hadst better never try to do so; for I tell thee plainly if thou dost--" "Keep threats behind thy teeth, Maude. It isn't like thee, and I won't be threatened either by man or woman. If thou thinkest it right to set Edgar before me, and to teach him _not_ to 'Honour his father'--" "Didn't he 'honour' thee last night! Wasn't he proud of thee? And he wanted to tell thee so, if thou wouldst have let him. Poor Edgar!" And Edgar's mother covered her face, and began to cry softly to herself. "Nay, Maude, if thou takest to crying I must run away. It isn't fair at all. What can a man say to tears? I wish I could have a bit of breakfast in peace; I do that!"--and he pushed his chair away in a little passion, and lifted his mail, and was going noisily out of the room, when he found Kitty's arms round his neck. Then he said peevishly, "Thou art spilling my letters, Kitty. Let me alone, dearie! Thou never hast a word to say on thy father's side. It's too bad!" "I am all for you, father,--you and you first of all. There is nobody like you; nobody before you; nobody that can ever take your place." Then she kissed him, and whispered some of those loving, senseless little words that go right to the heart, if Love sends them there. And the Squire was comforted by them, and whispered back to her, "God love thee, my little maid! I'll do anything I can to give thee pleasure." "Then just think about Edgar as you saw him last night, think of him with mother's eyes watching you, listening to you, full of pride and loving you so much--oh, yes, Father! loving you so much." "Well, well,--let me go now, Kitty. I have all these bothering letters and papers to look at; they are enough to make any man cross." "Let me help you."