esses her
against his heart.

How long she lies there neither of them ever knows; but presently, with
a sigh, she comes back to the sad present, and lifts her head, and looks
mournfully upon the quiet earth.

And even as she looks the day breaks at last with a rush, and the red
sunshine, coming up from the unknown, floods all the world with beauty.

CHAPTER XVI.

"The quarrel is a very pretty quarrel as it stands."
--THE RIVALS.

IT is two days later. Everyone you know is in the drawing-room at the
Court--that is, everyone except Dulce. But presently the door opens, and
that stormy young person enters, with her sleeves tucked up and a huge
apron over her pretty cashmere gown, that simply envelops her in its
folds.

"I am going to make _jam_" she says, unmistakable pride in her tone. She
is looking hopelessly conceited, and is plainly bent on posing as one of
the most remarkable housekeepers on record--as really, perhaps, she is.

"Jam?" says Mr. Browne, growing animated. "What kind of jam?"

"Plum jam."

"You don't say so?" says Mr. Browne, with unaffected interest. "Where
are you going to make it?"

"In the kitchen, of course. Did you think I was going to make it _here_,
you silly boy?" She is giving herself airs now, and is treating Dicky to
some gentle badinage.

"Are the plums in the kitchen?" asked he, regardless of her new-born
dignity, which is very superior, indeed.

"I hope so," she says, calmly.

"Then I'll go and make the jam with you," declares Mr. Browne, genially.

"Are you really going to make it?" asks Julia, opening her eyes to their
widest. "Really? Who told you how to do it?"

"Oh, I have known all about it for years," said Dulce, airily.

Every one is getting interested now--even Roger looks up from his book.
His quarrel with Dulce on the night of her ball has been tacitly put
aside by both, and though it still smoulders and is likely at any moment
to burst again into a flame, is carefully pushed out of sight for the
present.

"Does it take _long_ to make jam?" asks Sir Mark, putting in his query
before Stephen Gower, who is also present, can say anything.

"Well--it quite depends," says Dulce, vaguely. She conveys to the
astonished listeners the idea that though it might take some
unfortunately ignorant people many days to produce a decent pot of jam,
_she_--experienced as she is in all culinary matters--can manage i