w her was Adrien,
followed by a servant with the travelling case, which was placed beside
the chauffeur.

Adrien had already entered the car, and was about to have it set in
motion, when a sudden idea seemed to strike him, and he glanced up at
Lady Constance's window. Seeing this, she opened the casement and stood
framed by the surrounding greenery.

Adrien waved his hand to her; then, hastily scribbling something in a
note-book, he tore the page out, and evidently despatched it by one of
the waiting servants.

She watched every movement, with eyes shining with eagerness, and could
have cried bitterly at the thought of his absence. She knew, too, that
she was playing a dangerous game, when she allowed him to return to
town, his passion still undeclared; yet she felt that this was the only
means of holding his affections; for she was a firm believer in the
adage--"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." She sighed deeply,
however, as with a parting wave of his hand, and bareheaded, Adrien was
rapidly driven away.

A few minutes later the servant brought her the hastily written note. It
was only a scrap of paper, and unfolding it, she read the two lines:

"My father grants us the ball. We will make it an eventful
one.--ADRIEN."

Her face glowed. "We will, indeed," she murmured. "It is a high stake I
play for; but it is worth the struggle. Heaven grant me his whole heart!
I ask nothing else."

Carefully locking the scrap of paper away, she descended into the
morning-room, where Lord Barminster was already seated at the
breakfast-table. His grim face softened at the entry of the girl he had
always looked upon as a daughter, and loved even more intensely--if that
were possible--now that he meant to win her for his son's bride.

"So Adrien has left us again?" he began, as she poured out his coffee.

She flushed slightly at his significant tones.

"Yes," she replied. "Uncle, thank you so much for letting us have the
ball----"

"Nonsense, my dear" he returned. "Adrien told me you wanted it, and that
was sufficient. Why didn't you ask me yourself? Have I been such a cruel
guardian?"

"No, no," she cried, and coming round to him impulsively, she pressed
her lips to his forehead. "You've been the dearest uncle in the world.
Indeed, no father could have been better."

He smiled at her earnestness.

"I've done my best, my dear, though I admit I'd like you for my very own
daughter-in-law."

Lady Constance blush