“An admirable person,” said he earnestly; “most trustworthy in every way. We have all cause to be more than satisfied.” “Ah, then he does not object after all!” exclaimed Madame triumphantly. “And Master Walter--what sort of a wife has he got? Beautiful? That is well; it would be a pity if it were otherwise. And clever? Excellent! And also good, I hope?” “Well, Madame, she will be here in a minute, so that you may judge for yourself,” answered Letty smiling, but by no means displeased to hear the craunch of carriage-wheels upon the gravel of the terraced drive. These home questions concerning her new sister-in-law were getting rather difficult to answer, and especially in Richard's presence. “Will your mother be with them?” inquired Madame, gathering from the faces of her companions, rather than from any sound which could have reached her tardy ears, that the arrival of those expected was imminent. “As I said before, Madame, I cannot promise; but I sincerely trust, for your sake--as, indeed, for her own--that it may be so. I am sure mamma will deeply grieve to have missed you.” The next moment, Captain and Mrs Lisgard were announced. Richard walked straight up to Rose, and taking her hand in his best Sir Roger de Coverley manner, bade her frank but stately welcome. Then, “How are you, Walter?” said he, giving his brother's fingers an earnest squeeze, and simulating cordiality all he could. “Here is a very old friend of our mother's, Madame de Castellan, who remembers you in a velvet frock with short sleeves and cherry-coloured ribbons.” For the first time, Sir Richard blessed this old lady's presence, which was so greatly mitigating to him the difficulties of this dreaded interview; but Walter appeared to be but little embarrassed; less so, indeed, than Madame herself, who, overcome, doubtless, by the strong resemblance to his mother in the young man now presented to her, began to tremble again almost as much as she had done a while ago. “And this is Master Walter,” said she in broken tones. “I think I should have known that without any introduction.” Here she held him with both her hands at arms' length. “I suppose, now, you do not remember me at all?” “Madame,” returned the young man in bad French, but briskly enough, and with a very pleasant smile, “I cannot say I do. Little folks in velvet frocks have very bad memories. But I have often heard my dear mother speak of you most affectionately; indeed, she wrote to me of your expected arrival at Belcomb with greater pleasure than I have known her to take in anything for years.” “Except your marriage, Mister the Captain, eh?” returned the old lady archly. “Come, introduce me to your lovely bride. Ah, Heaven, what a young couple! Well, I like to see that--I who might be the great-grandmother of both of you.--How are you, Madame Walter? What do they call you? Rose! Ah, a charming name.”