ently, and leave her
looking like a broken lily on the-"

"How can you be so cynical, Mr. Beresford? It isn't like you!" exclaimed
Salemina. "For my part, I don't think the girl is either his bride or
his fiancee. Probably the mother of the family is dead, and the father
is bringing his eldest daughter to look at the house: that's my idea of
it."

This theory being just as plausible as ours, we did not discuss it,
hoping that something would happen to decide the matter in one way or
another.

"She is not married, I am sure," went on Salemina, leaning over the back
of my chair. "You notice that she hasn't given a glance at the kitchen
or the range, although they are the most important features of the
house. I think she may have just put her head inside the dining-room
door, but she certainly didn't give a moment to the butler's pantry or
the china closet. You will find that she won't mount to the fifth floor
to see how the servants are housed,--not she, careless, pretty creature;
she will go straight to the drawing-room."

And so she did; and at the same instant a still younger and prettier
creature drove up in a hansom, and was out of it almost before the
admiring cabby could stop his horse or reach down for his fare. She flew
up the stairway and danced into the drawing-room like a young whirlwind;
flung open doors, pulled up blinds with a jerk, letting in the sunlight
everywhere, and tiptoed to and fro over the dusty floors, holding up her
muslin flounces daintily.

"This must be the daughter of his first marriage," I remarked.

"Who will not get on with the young stepmother," finished Mr. Beresford.

"It is his youngest daughter," corrected Salemina,--"the youngest
daughter of his only wife, and the image of her deceased mother, who
was, in her time, the belle of Dublin."

She might well have been that, we all agreed; for this young beauty was
quite the Irish type, such black hair, grey-blue eyes, and wonderful
lashes, and such a merry, arch, winsome face, that one loved her on the
instant.

She was delighted with the place, and we did not wonder, for the
sunshine, streaming in at the back and side windows, showed us rooms
of noble proportions opening into one another. She admired the balcony,
although we thought it too public to be of any use save for flowering
plants; she was pleased with a huge French mirror over the marble
mantle; she liked the chandeliers, which were in the worst possible
taste; all t