Lionel found Mrs. Haughton in great bustle. A gardener's cart was before the street door. Men were bringing in a grove of evergreens, intended to border the staircase, and make its exiguous ascent still more difficult. The refreshments were already laid out in the dining-room. Mrs. Haughton, with scissors in hand, was cutting flowers to fill the eperyne, but darting to and fro, like a dragonfly, from the dining-room to the hall, from the flowers to the evergreens. "Dear me, Lionel, is that you? Just tell me, you who go to all those grandees, whether the ratafia-cakes should be opposite to the spauge- cakes, or whether they would not go better--thus--at cross-corners?" "My dear mother, I never observed--I don't know. But make haste-take off that apron-have those doors shut come upstairs. Mr. Darrell will be here very shortly. I have ridden on to prepare you." "Mr. Darrell--TO-DAY--HOW could you let him come? Oh, Lionel, how thoughtless you are! You should have some respect for your mother--I am your mother, sir." "Yes, my own dear mother--don't scold--I could not help it. He is so engaged, so sought after; if I had put him off to-day, he might never have come, and--" "Never have come! Who is Mr. Darrell, to give himself such airs?--Only a lawyer after all," said Mrs. Haughton, with majesty. "Oh, mother, that speech is not like you. He is our benefactor--our--" "Don't, don't say very more--I was very wrong--quite wicked--only my temper, Lionel dear. Good Mr. Darrell! I shall be so happy to see him-- see him, too, in this house that I owe to him--see him by your side! I think I shall fall down on my knees to him." And her eyes began to stream. Lionel kissed the tears away fondly. "That's my own mother now indeed-- now I am proud of you, mother; and how well you look! I am proud of that too." "Look well--I am not fit to be seen, this figure--though perhaps an elderly quiet gentleman like good Mr. Darrell does not notice ladies much. John, John, makes haste with those plants. Gracious me! you've got your coat off!--put it on--I expect a gentleman--I'm at home, in the front drawing-room--no--that's all set out--the back drawing-room, John. Send Susan to me. Lionel, do just look at the supper-table; and what is to be done with the flowers, and--" The rest of Mrs. Haughton's voice, owing to the rapidity of her ascent, which affected the distinctness of her utterance, was lost in air. She vanished at culminating point--within her chamber. CHAPTER III. MRS. HAUGHTON AT HOME TO GUY DARRELL. Thanks to Lionel's activity, the hall was disencumbered--the plants hastily stowed away-the parlour closed on the festive preparations--and the footman in his livery waiting at the door--when Mr. Darrell arrived. Lionel himself came out and welcomed his benefactor's footstep across the threshold of the home which the generous man had provided for the widow.