For all response Lady Lochore drank off the glass; then handed back the tray to Ellinor as if she had been a servant, the little powder conspicuously untouched. Ellinor looked from one to the other of the two men; then with a fine careless gesture passed her burden to Herrick, and, without another word, walked away up the terrace steps. Herrick glanced after her, glanced at the tray in his hand, and breaking into a quick laugh, promptly thrust it into Colonel Harcourt’s hands and scurried off in pursuit. Colonel Harcourt good-humouredly echoed the laugh, as he finally deposited the object on the grass, then stood in his turn, gazing philosophically after the two retreating figures that were now progressing side by side, while Lady Lochore and her son out-wrangled Mrs. Geary and Mr. Villars. “’Pon my soul,” said Colonel Harcourt, “_vera incessu patuit Dea_. That woman walks as well as any I’ve ever seen!” Lady Lochore caught the words, and they added to the irritation with which she was endeavouring to stifle her son’s protestation that he hated mamma. “I’ll have you know who’s master, sir!” she cried, pinning down the struggling arms with sudden anger. “I’m master. I am the little Master of Lochore—and Margery says I’m to be the little master here!” The mother suddenly relaxed her grasp of him and sat stonily gazing at him while he rubbed his chubby arm and stared back at her with pouting lips. The next moment she went down on her knees beside him, and took him up in her arms, smothering him with kisses. “Darling, so he shall be, darling, darling!” A panting nurse here rushed upon the scene. “Wretch!” exclaimed my lady, “you are not worth your salt! How dare you let the child escape you. Yes, take him, take him!—the weight of him!” She caught Harcourt’s eye fixed reflectively upon her. “Come and walk with me,” she commanded. “I was two by honours, you remember,” cooed Mrs. Geary. “I am positive, the Deyvil take my soul, Madam! But ’tis my score you are marking instead of your own!” Deserted Priscilla sat making reflective bunches of daisies. She had not once looked up since Herrick so unceremoniously left her. The sky was still as blue, the grass as green, the flowers as bright, the whole summer’s day as lovely; but fret and discord had crept in among them. CHAPTER II TOTTERING LIFE AND FORTUNE ... Loathsome sight, How from the rosy lips of life and love Flashed the bare grinning skeleton of death! White was her cheek; sharp breaths of anger puff’d Her nostrils.... —TENNYSON (_Merlin and Vivien_). With head erect, Lady Lochore walked on between the borders of lilies. The path was so narrow and the lilies had grown to such height and luxuriance that they struck heavily against her; and each time, like swinging censers, sent gushes of perfume up towards the hot blue sky.