Floyd, who
had at some trouble and expense looked after his education. He had
entered college the year before, but his conduct had been a little
unsatisfactory to the authorities, and his guardian had withdrawn him,
and now, in some doubt as to the best course to pursue in regard to his
future, wished him to study for a few months quietly at Belfield.

"Your mother will let him visit here, I trust," he went on. "I think he
is half a good fellow, and we must forgive the other half, because his
mother was the proudest, vainest, silliest little Castilian that ever
lived. Tony has got a good deal to contend against."

But the drawbacks to Thorpe's advancement were not so patent to my mind
on first acquaintance as his advantages. He had a slight, graceful
figure, a little under height, but carried himself with the dignity of a
grandee; his eyes were large, dark and languishing; his complexion was a
pale olive; while his moustache, black and exquisitely pencilled, was a
sign of itself of towering superiority above the rest of us callow
youths. That alone would have filled me with envy.

CHAPTER II.

"Ah," exclaimed Mr. Floyd, starting to his feet, "that is your mother, I
hope."

I had become too much absorbed in our talk to hear the click of the
gate, but now I sprang up and rushed to the door, and, seeing my mother
quietly walking up the path, I ran out bareheaded into the rain.

"Oh, mother," I cried, "you cannot guess who has come to spend Sunday
with us!"

It seemed to me all at once that some thought of him must have been in
her mind, for her color came and went. "I hope it is Cousin James," she
replied calmly.

As I took her umbrella from her hand I could see that she was trembling
and her lips quivering. I unclasped her cloak and untied her bonnet, and
took them from her: she ungloved her hands hastily and smoothed her hair
as she went along the hall. Mr. Floyd stood facing her as she entered
the sitting-room. "Dear Mary!" said he, and took her in his arms and
kissed her.

I felt as if I had been struck a heavy blow. I knew that he had been not
only my father's first cousin, but his nearest and dearest friend as
well; but, for all that, it was not easy for me to see my mother
surrendering herself to that caress. But presently, when I saw that she
was crying, I knew that she was thinking only of my father and her long
agony of loneliness, and I forgave them both. When she regained her
calmness she c