o a house in Park Lane one wet evening
in spring. It contained Lord Hartledon and his second wife. They were
expected, and the servants were assembled in the hall.

Lord Hartledon led her into their midst, proudly, affectionately; as he
had never in his life led any other. Ah, you need not ask who she was; he
had contrived to win her, to win over Dr. Ashton; and his heart had at
length found rest. Her fair countenance, her thoughtful eyes and sweet
smile were turned on the servants, thanking them for their greeting.

"All well, Hedges?" asked Lord Hartledon.

"Quite well, my lord. But we are not alone."

"No!" said Val, stopping in his progress. "Who's here?"

"The Countess-Dowager of Kirton, my lord," replied Hedges, glancing at
Lady Hartledon in momentary hesitation.

"Oh, indeed!" said Val, as if not enjoying the information. "Just see,
Hedges, that the things inside the carriage are all taken out. Don't come
up, Mrs. Ball; I will take Lady Hartledon to her rooms."

It was the light-hearted Val of the old, old days; his face free from
care, his voice gay. He did not turn into any of the reception-rooms, but
led his wife at once to her chamber. It was nearly dinner-time, and he
knew she was tired.

"Welcome home, my darling!" he whispered tenderly ere releasing her. "A
thousand welcomes to you, my dear, dear wife!"

Tears rose to his eyes with the fervour of the wish. Heaven alone knew
what the past had been; the contrast between that time and this.

"I will dress at once, Percival," she said, after a few moments' pause.
"I must see your children before dinner. Heaven helping me, I shall love
them and always act by them as if they were my own."

"I am so sorry she is here, Anne--that terrible old woman. You heard
Hedges say Lady Kirton had arrived. Her visit is ill-timed."

"I shall be glad to welcome her, Val."

"It is more than I shall be," replied Val, as his wife's maid came into
the room, and he quitted it. "I'll bring the children to you, Anne."

They had been married nearly five weeks. Anne had not seen the children
for several months. The little child, Edward, had shown symptoms of
delicacy, and for nearly a year the children had sojourned at the
seaside, having been brought to the town-house just before their father's
marriage.

The nursery was empty, and Lord Hartledon went down. In the passage
outside the drawing-room was Hedges, evidently waiting for his master,
and with a budget to unfold