plied the elder.

'I think the bracelet the prettiest of all the presents he brought to-
day--do you?'

'It is the most valuable.'

'Lord Mountclere is very kind, is he not? I like him a great deal better
than I did--do you, Berta?'

'Yes, very much better,' said Ethelberta, warming a little. 'If he were
not so suspicious at odd moments I should like him exceedingly. But I
must cure him of that by a regular course of treatment, and then he'll be
very nice.'

'For an old man. He likes you better than any young man would take the
trouble to do. I wish somebody else were old too.'

'He will be some day.'

'Yes, but--'

'Never mind: time will straighten many crooked things.'

'Do you think Lord Mountclere has reached home by this time?'

'I should think so: though I believe he had to call at the parsonage
before leaving Knollsea.'

'Had he? What for?'

'Why, of course somebody must--'

'O yes. Do you think anybody in Knollsea knows it is going to be except
us and the parson?'

'I suppose the clerk knows.'

'I wonder if a lord has ever been married so privately before.'

'Frequently: when he marries far beneath him, as in this case. But even
if I could have had it, I should not have liked a showy wedding. I have
had no experience as a bride except in the private form of the ceremony.'

'Berta, I am sometimes uneasy about you even now and I want to ask you
one thing, if I may. Are you doing this for my sake? Would you have
married Mr. Julian if it had not been for me?'

'It is difficult to say exactly. It is possible that if I had had no
relations at all, I might have married him. And I might not.'

'I don't intend to marry.'

'In that case you will live with me at Enckworth. However, we will leave
such details till the ground-work is confirmed. When we get indoors will
you see if the boxes have been properly corded, and are quite ready to be
sent for? Then come in and sit by the fire, and I'll sing some songs to
you.'

'Sad ones, you mean.'

'No, they shall not be sad.'

'Perhaps they may be the last you will ever sing to me.'

'They may be. Such a thing has occurred.'

'But we will not think so. We'll suppose you are to sing many to me
yet.'

'Yes. There's good sense in that, Picotee. In a world where the blind
only are cheerful we should all do well to put out our eyes. There, I
did not mean to get into this state: forgive me, Picotee. It is because
I have had a tho