“Fair be the garden where their loves shall dwell, Safe be the highway where their feet may go, Rich be the fields wherein their hands may toil, The fountains many where their good wines flow. Full be their harvest-bins with corn and oil, To sorrow may their humour be a foil; Quick be their hearts all wise delights to know, Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell.” There was a moment’s silence after he had finished, and then there was noise without, a sound of pattering feet; the door flew open, and in ran a little figure in white--young Richard in his bed-gown, who had broken away from his nurse, and had made his way to the billiard-room, where he knew his uncle had gone. The child’s face was flashing with mischief and adventure. He ran in among the group, and stretched out his hands with a little fighting air. His uncle Richard made a step towards him, but he ran back; his father made as if to take him in his arms, but he evaded him. Presently the door opened, the nurse entered, the child sprang from among the group, and ran with a laughing defiance to the farthest end of the room, and, leaning his chin on the billiard-table, flashed a look of defiant humour at his pursuer. Presently the door opened again, and the figure of the mother appeared. All at once the child’s face altered; he stood perfectly still, and waited for his mother to come to him. Lali had not spoken, and she did not speak until, lifting the child, she came the length of the billiard-table and faced them. “I beg your pardon,” she said, “for intruding; but Richard has led us a dance, and I suppose the mother may go where her child goes.” “The mother and the child are always welcome wherever they go,” said General Armour quietly. All the men had risen to their feet, and they made a kind of semicircle before her. The white-robed child had clasped its arms about her neck, and nestled its face against hers, as if, with perfect satisfaction, it had got to the end of its adventure; but the look of humour was still in the eyes as they ran from Richard to his father and back again. Frank Armour stepped forwards and took the child’s hand, as it rested on the mother’s shoulder. Lali’s face underwent a slight change as her husband’s fingers touched her neck. “I must go,” she said. “I hope I have not broken up a serious conversation--or were you not so serious after all?” she said, glancing archly at General Armour. “We were talking of women,” said Lambert. “The subject is wide,” replied Lali, “and the speakers many. One would think some wisdom might be got in such a case.” “Believe me, we were not trying to understand the subject,” said Captain Vidall; “the most that a mere man can do is to appreciate it.”