"Not in bed?" she said, with a smile. "I have only just come up," he replied. The countess smiled again. "You have been up nearly half an hour." He was almost guilty of a blush. "So long!" he said, "I must have been thinking." And he laughed, as he drew a chair forward. He waited until she was seated before he resumed his own; never, by word or deed, did he permit himself to grow lax in courtesy to her; and then he looked up at her with a smile. "Have you come for a chat, my lady?" he said, calling her by her title in the mock-serious way in which he was accustomed to address her when they were alone. "Yes, I have come for a chat, Leycester," she said, quietly. "Does that mean a scold?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, but still smiling. "Your tone is suspicious, mother. Well, I am at your mercy." "I have nothing to scold you for," said the countess, leaning back in the comfortable chair--all the chairs were comfortable in these rooms of his. "Do you feel that you deserve one?" Lord Leycester was silent. If he had answered he might have been compelled to admit that perhaps there was some excuse for complaint in regard to his conduct that evening; silence was safest. "No, I have not come to scold you, Leycester. I don't think I have ever done that," said the countess, softly. "No, you have been the best of mothers, my lady," he responded. "I never saw you in an ill temper in my life; perhaps that is why you look so young. You do look absurdly young, you know," he added, gazing at her with affectionate admiration. When the countess seemed lost in thought, Leycester added: "Devereux says that the majority of English wives and mothers look so girlish that he believes it must be the custom to marry them when they are children." The countess smiled. "Lord Devereux is master of fine phrases, Leycester. Yes, I was married very young." Then she looked round the room: a strange reluctance to commence the task she had set herself took possession of her. "You have made your rooms very pretty, Leycester." He leant back, watching her with a smile. "You haven't come to talk about my rooms, mother." Then she straightened herself for her work. "No, Leycester, I have come to talk about you." "Rather an uninteresting subject. However, proceed." "You may make it very hard for me," said the countess, with a little sigh. He smiled. "Then you have come to scold?" "No, only to advise." "That is generally the same thing under another name." "I do not often do it," said the countess, in a low voice. "Forgive me," he said, stooping forward and kissing her. "Now, mother, fire away. What is it? Not about that race money--you don't want me to give up the horses?" The countess smiled almost scornfully. "Why should I, Leycester; they cost a great deal of money, but if they amuse you, why----" and she shrugged her shoulders slightly.