"How interesting it will be," Mrs. Heron's, pensive voice was understood to murmur, when Percival's gruff speech had come to a sudden conclusion, "to notice the use dear Lizzie makes of her wealth! I wonder what her income will be, and whether the Luttrells' kept up a large establishment." "Oh," said Elizabeth, suddenly loosening herself from Kitty's arms and standing erect before them with a face that paled and eyes that deepened with emotion, "does it not occur to you through what trouble and misery this 'good fortune,' as you call it, has come to me? Does it not seem wrong to you to plan what pleasure I can get out of it, when you think of that poor mother sitting at home and mourning over her two sons--two young, strong men--dead in the very prime of life? And Miss Vivian, too, with her spoiled life and her shattered hopes--she once expected to be the mistress of the very house that they now call mine! I hate the thought of it. Please never speak to me as if it were a matter for congratulation. I should be heartily glad--heartily thankful--if Brian Luttrell were alive again!" She sat down, and put her elbows on the table and her hands over her face. The others looked at her in amaze. Percival turned to the fire and stared into it very hard. Mrs. Heron, who was rather afraid of what she called "Elizabeth's high-flown moods," murmured a suggestion to Kitty that she ought to go to the children, and glided languidly away, beckoning her step-daughter to follow her. Percival did not speak until Elizabeth raised her face, and then he was uncomfortably conscious that she had been crying--at least, that her long eyelashes were wet, and that in other circumstances he might have felt a desire to kiss the tears away. But this desire, if he had it, must now be carefully controlled. He did not look at her, therefore, when he spoke. "Your feeling is somewhat over-strained, Elizabeth. We are all sorry for the Luttrells' trouble; but it is absurd to say that we must not be glad of your good fortune." Elizabeth rose up with her eyes ablaze and her cheeks on fire. "You know that you are not glad!" she said, almost passionately. "You know that you would rather see me poor--see me the nursery-maid, the Cinderella, that you are so fond of calling me!" "Well," said Percival, with a short laugh, "for my own sake, perhaps, I would." "And so would I," said Elizabeth. "But you know, Lizzie, you will get over that feeling in time. You will find pleasure in your riches and your beauty; you will learn what enjoyment means--which you have had small chance of finding out, hitherto, in this comfortable household!" He laughed rather bitterly. "You are in the chrysalis state at present; you don't know what it is to be a butterfly. You will like that better--in time."