miles from the Princess,
applause from the audience; an evening, in fact, all froth and
sweetstuff, from which Lady Parham emerged grimly content, conscious at
the same time that she was henceforward very decidedly, and rather
disagreeably, in the Ashes' debt; while Elizabeth Tranmore went home in
a tremor of delight, happily persuaded that Ashe's path was now clear.

Kitty listened, sometimes pleased, sometimes inclined to be critical or
scornful of her mother-in-law's praise. But she did love Lady Tranmore,
and on the whole she smiled. Smiles, indeed, had been Kitty's portion
since that evening of strange emotion, when she had found herself
sobbing in William's arms for reasons quite beyond her own defining. It
was as if, like the prince in the fairy tale, some iron band round her
heart had given way. She seemed to dance through the house; she devoured
her child with kisses; and she was even willing sometimes to let William
tell her what his mother suspected of the progress of Mary's affair with
Geoffrey Cliffe, though she carefully avoided speaking directly to Lady
Tranmore about it. As to Cliffe himself, she seemed to have dropped him
out of her thoughts. She never mentioned him, and Ashe could only
suppose she had found him disenchanting.

"Well, darling! I hope I have made a sufficient fool of myself to please
you!"

Ashe had thrown the door wide, and stood on the threshold, arrayed in
the brocade and fur of a Venetian noble. He was a somewhat magnificent
apparition, and Kitty, who had coaxed or driven him into the dress, gave
a scream of delight. She saw him before her own glass, and the crimson
senator made eyes at the white goddess as they posed triumphantly
together.

"You're a very rococo sort of goddess, you know, Kitty!" said Ashe. "Not
much Greek about you!"

"Quite as much as I want, thank you," said Kitty, courtesying to her own
reflection in the glass. "Fanchette could have taught them a thing or
two! Now come along! Ah! Wait!"

And, gathering up her possessions, she left the room. Ashe, following
her, saw that she was going to the nursery, a large room on the back
staircase. At the threshold she turned back and put her finger to her
lip. Then she slipped in, reappearing a moment afterwards to say, in a
whisper, "Nurse is not in bed. You may come in." Nurse, indeed, knew
much better than to be in bed. She had been sitting up to see her
ladyship's splendors, and she rose smiling as Ashe entered th