"Yes," sighed his mother. "And I want to keep him at home; he spoke of an appointment in Paris, in the suite of my Lord Northcote; I trust he will not go." Miss Chressham rose. "The mantua-maker is coming at six, shall we not go upstairs?" "Oh, la!" cried my lady, shaking her laces into place; "it should be very modish, should it not, that watered tabby--which minds me that all the best heads have ribbon in the lapels--I wish to order some of a precise red." Susannah Chressham smiled, for the Countess Agatha spoke with more animation and decision than she had used when discussing her sons and their affairs. The two ladies left the room; a few moments after their departure the timepiece struck six, and before the clear chimes had ceased Marius entered--Captain the Honourable Marius Lyndwood of the 2nd Buffs now, of a slightly weightier presence, a slightly quieter manner, otherwise not changed at all by his year in the train of the English ambassador in Spain. He wore his buff and blue uniform, and his hair was powdered and rolled into stiff military side-curls; he moved with an air of precision that made him look older than he was. Finding the room empty he walked up and down idly a while, then stopped before the spinet and began turning over Susannah's fragrant music-sheets. One took his fancy, he had been fond of music and not unskilled; this was a piece of Scarlatti, showy, foreign. He sat down before the keyboard, making a clatter with his sword, and began to play; he laughed to himself at his own mistakes, and commenced whistling the air. The white door opened and Miss Chressham entered; Marius rose, flushing a little, and both smiled. "I thought you must have returned," said Susannah, coming across the room. "Well, what of the Paris appointment?" "The post has been offered me," he answered rather gravely. "But my lord says it is as I wish; it can easily be arranged that I stay in London." "Are you going?" asked Miss Chressham. He fixed his eyes on the keys. "I think so." She moved away to the table that held the forget-me-nots and bent over them; then he looked at her, at the long fair curls flowing between her shoulders over her gleaming pink gown, and the slender hand hanging by her side. "I want to do something worth while, Susannah," he said quietly "to make a position for myself--this has all been Rose, Rose's money." "I think you had better go," she answered slowly, "though we miss you very much, Marius." He went suddenly pale. "I want to thank you for writing to me so often," he said abruptly. "If I go away will you still write to me?" She faced him, smiling. "Of course, Marius." He sat silent; she noticed his pallor and his serious mouth, and faintly wondered; he had been rather moody since his return. "Well," she said, "my lady sent me to see if you were here, that was all; we have the mantua-maker upstairs; but expect us at dinner!" she laughed. "Can you not stay?" he demanded.