ley atmosphere of their own free will. What is
the son like? I have only seen him once or twice. Does he take after
his father?"

"He's about twice as tall, and several times as wide in some respects,
I should say,--certainly in the matter of the enjoyment of life. He's
not bad-looking--in a kind of a way, you know,--that is, for those who
like that kind of looks,--a trifle fleshy perhaps. But he's a fair
dancer, and sings a song well, and can talk about nothing as nicely
as any man I ever met. It's an accomplishment I often envy."

"I wouldn't trouble about it, if I were you. There are things more
worth doing in the world. And that reminds me. We were talking of your
books. I've been wanting to tell you that your love-scenes are not
altogether to my liking. They are just a little--well, not quite--"

"Yes, I know," he said sadly. "You see, I lack experience in such
things. Now, if Margaret--"

"Don't tell me you want to use her simply as a model," she began, with
another incipient gentle bristle.

"I want her as a model and a great many other things besides, dear
Lady Elspeth. I love Margaret Brandt with every atom of good that is
in me."

"And she?" with a nod and a sparkle.

"Ah! There now--that's what I don't know. She's not one to wear her
heart on her sleeve. At times I have dared to hope. Then again I have
feared--"

"That is quite right. That is quite as it should be. Anything more, so
early as this, would imply unmaidenliness on her part."

"Truly? You mean it? You are, without exception, the most charming old
lady in the world! You relieve my mind immensely. You see, she is
always so sweet and charming. But then she could not be anything
else, and it may really mean nothing. Do you really think I may hope?"

"'White-handed Hope, thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings,'"
she quoted, with a smile.

"That's Margaret," he murmured rapturously.

"It's a poor kind of man that gives up hope until he lies in his
coffin, and even then--" and she nodded thoughtfully, as though
tempted to a descent into metaphysics.

"Let us talk of bridal wreaths. They are very much nicer to think of
than coffins when one is discussing Margaret Brandt."

"She is very sweet and very beautiful--"

"There never was anyone like her in this world--unless it was my
mother and yourself."

"Let Margaret be first with you, my boy. That also is as it should be.
Neither your dear mother nor I stand in need of empty compli