ronger than reason. There are some
antipathies which are implanted in us for warnings. Remember what a
happy life you led with my dear father--his goodness, his overflowing
generosity, his noble heart. There is no man worthy to succeed him, to
live in his house. Dear mother, for pity's sake----"

She was kneeling at her mother's feet, clinging to her hands, her voice
half-choked with sobs. Mrs. Tempest began to cry too.

"My dearest Violet, how can you be so foolish? My love, don't cry. I
tell you that I shall never marry again--never. Not if I were asked to
become a countess. My heart is true to your dear father; it always will
be. I am almost sorry that I consented to these scarlet bows on my
dress, but the feather trimming looked so heavy without them, and
Theodore's eye for colour is perfect. My dear child, be assured I shall
carry his image with me to my grave."

"Dear mother, that is all I ask. Be as happy as you can; but be true to
him. He was worthy to be loved for a lifetime; not to be put off with
half a life, half a heart."

CHAPTER XV.

Lady Southminster's Ball.

Captain Winstanley closed with Mrs. Hawbuck for the pretty little
verandah-surrounded cottage on the slope of the hill above Beechdale.
Captain Hawbuck, a retired naval man, to whom the place had been very
dear, was in his grave, and his wife was anxious to try if she and her
hungry children could not live on less money in Belgium than they could
in England. The good old post-captain had improved and beautified the
place from a farm-labourer's cottage into a habitation which was the
quintessence of picturesque inconvenience. Ceilings which you could
touch with your hand; funny little fireplaces in angles of the rooms; a
corkscrew staircase, which a stranger ascended or descended at peril of
life or limb; no kitchen worth mentioning, and stuffy little bedrooms
under the thatch. Seen from the outside the cottage was charming; and
if the captain and his family could only have lived over the way, and
looked at it, they would have had full value for the money invested in
its improvement. Small as the rooms were, however, and despite that
dark slander which hung over the chimneys, Captain Winstanley declared
that the cottage would suit him admirably.

"I like the situation," he said, discussing his bargain in the
coffee-room at The Crown, Lyndhurst.

"I should rather think you did!" cried Mr. Bell, the local surgeon.
"Suits you down to the g