"I congratulate you with all my heart," says 'Duke, kindly, kissing her. "You have got as good a husband as any girl could desire, and as rich a one, too, without doubt. We shall be small people, Phyllis, you and I, next to my Lady Ashurst." "I must not stay to hear any more flattery. Thank you very much for all you have said," replies Dora, gracefully, and, having bidden us both good-night goes off to her own room. Every one in the house is immensely delighted. An engagement, even when everything belonging to it goes smoothly, and suitably, cannot fail to awaken interest in the heart of a woman; and, Dora's lover being uncoveted by any of us, no jealousy shows itself to mar the universal good feeling. We chatter about it all next day, and tell each other we had seen how it would end from the very beginning. We dilate on the charming place he has in Surrey, his palace in the North; and then we whisper of what a detestable creature is his mother; while Bebe hopes Dora will have courage to put a veto at once against any lengthened visiting on her part. "Because," says Miss Beatoun, "we _all_ know where _that_ will lead. When Ashurst's brother married Lady Octavia Dering, his mother invited herself to pay them a month's visit; and she stayed ten; and it was the doctor and the nurse, eventually, who insisted on putting her out, shortly after the boy was born. They say poor Lady Octavia nearly went out of her mind one morning when, on going into her nursery, she found the old lady deliberately pouring some nauseous allopathic medicine down the child's throat. Octavia told me herself, with tears in her eyes, the poor little fellow was all but in a fit for two hours afterwards. She is really a very shocking old person, and should be suppressed. I do hope dear Dora will gather together all her pluck and try to be a match for her." Secretly, I feel so assured of dear Dora's being a "match" for any mother-in-law alive that I endure no uneasy pangs on this count. She bears the congratulations and the little good-natured banterings admirably, is modest without being stupidly shy, and prettily conscious without betraying any symptoms of _gaucherie_. She is indeed as perfect in her new _role_ of bride-elect as though she had sustained the part for years. "Sir George must be a favorite with the gods: let us hope he won't die young," says Sir Mark, bending over Dora some time during the evening, "He has had everything he could possibly desire from his cradle upwards--money, friends, position; and now he must get _you_. I think"--in a playfully injured tone--"the good things of this life are very unequally divided. In common justice, Ashurst should have been forced into matrimony with a woman as ugly, ill-tempered, and altogether disenchanting as--his manners, instead of which---" He sighs audibly, and makes an eloquent pause.