Her roses were fresh this morning and opening in the warmth of the fire, but Mr. Evringham's eyes were caught by a mass of American Beauties which stood in an alcove close to the window. “Where did those come from?” he demanded. “They belong to Miss Eloise,” replied Mrs. Forbes. “She asked me to take care of them for her.” “Humph! Ballard again, I suppose,” remarked the broker. “I hope so,” responded Mrs. Forbes devoutly. Mr. Evringham had spoken to himself, and he glanced up from his paper, surprised by the prompt fervor of the reply. The housekeeper looked non-committal, but her meaning dawned upon him, and he smiled slightly as he returned to the news of the day. “Dr. Ballard must love Cousin Eloise very much,” said Jewel, mashing her potato. “He sent her a splendid box of candy, too.” She addressed her remark to Mrs. Forbes, and in a low tone, in order not to disturb her grandfather's reading. “Any girl can get candy and flowers and love, if she's only pretty enough,” returned Mrs. Forbes; “but she mustn't forget to be pretty.” The speaker's tone appealed to Jewel as signifying a grievance. She looked up. “Why, somebody married you, Mrs. Forbes,” she said kindly. Mr. Evringham's paper hid a face which suddenly contorted, but the housekeeper's quick-glancing eyes could not see a telltale motion. She gave a hard little laugh. “You think there's hope for you then, do you?” she returned. “I guess I'm not going to be married,” replied Jewel. “Father says I'm going to be his bachelor maid when I grow up.” “Shouldn't wonder if you were,” said Mrs. Forbes dryly. The owner of the American Beauties and the beribboned bonbon box was taking her coffee as usual in bed. This luxurious habit had never been hers until she came to Bel-Air; but it was her mother's custom, and rather than undergo a tete-a-tete breakfast with her host, she had adopted it. Now she had made her toilet deliberately. There was nothing to hurry for. Her mother's voice came in detached sentences and questions from the next room. “Dear me, this rain is too trying, Eloise! Didn't you have some engagement with Dr. Ballard to-day?” “He thought he could get off for some golf this afternoon.” “What a disappointment for the dear fellow,” feelingly. “He has so little time to himself!” Eloise gave a most unsympathetic laugh. “More than he wishes he had, I fancy,” she returned. She came finally in her white negligee into her mother's room. Mrs. Evringham was still in bed. Her eyeglasses were on and she regarded her daughter critically as she came in sight. She had begun to look upon her as mistress of the fine old Ballard place on Mountain Avenue, and the setting was very much to her mind. The girl sauntered over to the window, and taking a low seat, leaned her head against the woodwork, embowered in the lace curtains.