olet went over to the sofa and knelt by her mother's side and
embraced her tenderly, looking at her earnestly all the while, in the
clear soft lamp-light. Yes, there was indeed a change. The always
delicate face was pinched and shrunken. The ivory of the complexion had
altered to a dull gray. Premature age had hollowed the cheeks, and
lined the forehead. It was a change that meant decline and death.
Violet's heart sank as she beheld it: but she remembered the Captain's
warning, and bravely strove to put on an appearance of cheerfulness.

"Dear mother, I am so happy to come home to you," she said gaily; "and
I am going to nurse and pet you, for the next week or so; till you get
tremendously well and strong, and are able to take me to innumerable
parties."

"My dear Violet, I have quite given up parties; and I stall never be
strong again."

"Dearest, it has always been your habit to fancy yourself an invalid."

"Yes, Violet, once I may have been full of fancies: but now I know that
I am ill. You will not be unkind or unjust to Conrad, will you, dear?
He sent for you directly I asked him. He has been all goodness to me.
Try and get on with him nicely, dear, for my sake."

This was urged with such piteous supplication, that it would have
needed a harder heart than Violet's to deny the prayer.

"Dear mother, forget that the Captain and I ever quarrelled," said
Vixen. "I mean to be excellent friends with him henceforward. And,
darling, I have a secret to tell you if you would like to hear it."

"What secret, dear?"

"Lady Mabel Ashbourne has jilted Roderick!"

"My love, that is no secret. I heard all about it day before yesterday.
People have talked of nothing else since it happened. Lady Mabel has
behaved shamefully."

"Lady Mabel has behaved admirably. If other women were wise enough to
draw back at the last moment there would be fewer unhappy marriages.
But Lady Mabel's elopement is only the prologue to my story."

"What can you mean, child?"

"Roderick came to Jersey to make me an offer."

"So soon! Oh, Violet, what bad taste!"

"Ought he to have gone into mourning? He did not even sing willow, but
came straight off to me, and told me he had loved me all his life; so
now you will have my _trousseau_ to think about, dearest, and I shall
want all your good taste. You know how little I have of my own."

"Ah, Violet, if you had only married Lord Mallow! I could have given my
whole mind to your _trousseau_ th