how the starry eyes had flashed! how the rosy
lips had smiled! Half the men at the ball were in love with her, he
knew; and she--she had danced twice with him, all night, for once with
any one else.

It was a very silent drive. Lady Kingsland sat back among her wraps in
displeased silence; Mildred never talked much, and the young baronet
was lost in blissful ecstasy a great deal too deep for words. He could
not even see his mother was angry--he never gave one poor thought to
Lady Louise. The whole world was bounded by Harriet Hunsden.

Sybilla Silver was up and waiting. A bright fire, a cheery cup of tea,
and a smiling face greeted her ladyship.

"Really, Miss Silver," she said, languidly, "this is very thoughtful of
you. Where is my maid?"

"Asleep, my lady. Pray let me fulfill her duties this once. I hope
you enjoyed the ball?"

"I never enjoyed a ball less in my life. Pray make haste--I am in no
mood for talking."

Sybilla's swift, deft fingers disrobed the moody lady, loosened the
elaborate structure of hair, brushed it out, and all the while she sat
frowning angrily at the fire.

"There was a young lady at the hall--a Miss Hunsden," she said, at
last, breaking out in spite of herself--"and the exhibition she made
was perfectly disgraceful. Miss Silver, if you see my son before I get
up to-day, tell him I wish particularly for his company at breakfast."

"Yes, my lady," Miss Silver said, docilely; and my lady did not see the
smile that faded with the words.

She understood it perfectly. Sir Everard had broken from the maternal
apron-string, deserted the standard of Lady Louise, and gone over to
"bold, odious" Miss Hunsden.

Sybilla dutifully delivered the message the first time she met the
baronet. A groom was holding Sir Galahad, and his master was just
vaulting into the saddle. He turned away from the dark face and sweet
voice.

"It is impossible this morning," he said. "Tell Lady Kingsland I shall
meet her at dinner."

He rode away as he spoke, with the sudden consciousness that it was the
first time he and that devoted mother had ever clashed. Thinking of
her, he thought of her favorite.

"She wants to read me a tirade, I suppose, about her pet, Lady Louise,"
he said to himself. "They would badger me into marrying her if they
could. I never cared two straws for the daughter of Earl Carteret; she
is frightfully _passee_, and she's three years older than I am. I am
glad I did