u must come to me. And how was dear Lady Alice when you saw
her last?"

Lesley did not like these effusive expressions of affection. But she
answered, gently--

"Mamma was quite well, thank you." Which answer did not give Mrs.
Romaine all the information that she desired.

"I have been looking at a pretty poodle dog over the way," she went on,
conscious of some desire to change the subject. "Its mistress has been
putting it through all sorts of tricks--ah, there it is again!"

"The Kenyons' dog?" said Mrs. Romaine, smiling, as she looked at the
little group which had once more formed itself upon the balcony. "Oh, I
see. That is young Mr. Kenyon, the doctor, a great friend of your
father's; and that is his sister, Ethel Kenyon, the actress."

"My father spoke about her," said Lesley.

"Oh, yes, he admires her very much. He wrote a long article about her in
the _Tribune_ once. Do you see the _Tribune_ regularly? Your dear father
writes a great deal for it, and I am sure you must appreciate his
exquisite writing."

"Do you know Miss Kenyon too?"

"Oh, yes, I know her very well. And I expect to know her better very
soon, because I suppose we shall be connections before long."

Lesley looked a smiling inquiry.

"I have a younger brother--my brother Oliver," said Mrs. Romaine, with a
little laugh; "and younger brothers, dear, have a knack of falling in
love. He has fallen in love with Ethel, who is really a nice girl, as
well as a pretty and a clever girl, and I believe they will be married
by and by."

Lesley could not have said why, but somehow at that moment she was
distinctly glad of the fact.

CHAPTER VIII.

OLIVER'S INTENTIONS.

"Well, what is she like?" Oliver Trent asked, lightly, of his sister
Rosalind, when they met that evening at dinner.

"Lesley Brooke? She is a handsome girl," said Mrs. Romaine, with some
reserve of manner.

"Nothing more?"

His sister waited until the servant had left the room before she
replied.

"I wish you would be discreet, Oliver. My servants are often at the
Brookes' with messages. I should not like them to repeat what you were
saying."

Oliver shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man to whom women's
caprices are incomprehensible. But he was silent until dessert was
placed upon the table, and Mrs. Romaine's neat parlor-maid had
disappeared.

"Now," he said, "you can disburthen your mind in peace."

"Oliver," said Mrs. Romaine, abruptly. "I want yo