e repels me, or laughs at me, and tells me I am
fanciful. That he has some secret trouble I have long known: his days are
unhappy, his nights restless; often when he thinks me asleep I am
listening to his sighs. I am glad you have come home; I have wanted a
true friend to confide these troubles to, and I could only speak of them
to one of the family."

"It sounds like a romance," cried Laura. "Some secret grief! What can it
be?"

They were interrupted by a commotion. Maude had been threading a splendid
ring all the colours of the rainbow, and now exhibited it for the benefit
of admiring beholders.

"Papa--Aunt Margaret--look at my ring."

Lord Hartledon nodded pleasantly at the child from his distant seat; Lady
Margaret appeared not to have heard; and Maude caught up a soft ball and
threw it at her aunt.

Unfortunately, it took a wrong direction, and struck the nodding dowager
on the nose. She rose up in a fury and some commotion ensued.

"Make me a ring, Maude," little Anne lisped when the dowager had subsided
into her chair again. Maude took no notice; her finger was still lifted
with the precious ornament.

"Can you see it from your sofa, Edward?"

The boy rose and stretched himself. "Pretty well. You have put it on the
wrong finger, Maude. Ladies don't wear rings on the little finger."

"But it won't go on the others," said Maude dolefully: "it's too small."

"Make a larger one."

"Make one for me, Maude," again broke in Anne's little voice.

"No, I won't!" returned Maude. "You are big enough to thread beads for
yourself."

"No, she's not," said Reginald. "Make her one, Maude."

"No, don't, Maude," said Edward. "Let them do things for themselves."

"You hear!" whispered Lady Hartledon.

"I do hear. And Val sits there and never reproves them; and the old
dowager's head and eyes are nodding and twinkling approval."

Lady Laura was an energetic little woman, thin, and pale, and excessively
active, with a propensity for setting the world straight, and a tongue as
unceremoniously free as the dowager's. In the cause of justice she would
have stood up to battle with a giant. Lady Hartledon was about to make
some response, but she bade her wait; her attention was absorbed by the
children. Perhaps the truth was that she was burning to have a say in the
matter herself.

"Maude," she called out, "if that ring is too small for you, it would do
for Anne, and be kind of you to give it her."

Maude looked d