he kissed him, and whispered:

"You dearest of dears! If I could have loved you any more, I would now,
but I can't. I won't drive into town, because Brenda's coming out with
Lord Leighton in her new motor to fetch me; at least, she will, if other
papas have been as delightful as you have been."

He put his hand up and stroked her cheek with a gesture that was older
than she was, and said with a smile which meant more than she could
comprehend:

"Ah! so it _was_ a conspiracy, after all! Well, dear, I hope that, for
all your sakes, it will turn out a successful one."

About the same time Brenda was saying to her parents:

"Poppa and Mammy, I've got some news to tell you, and I've slept on it,
so as to make quite sure about the telling."

"And what might that be, Brenda?" asked her mother, looking up a trifle
anxiously. "Nothing very serious, I hope."

"Anything connected with the Marmions?" asked her father, in a voice
that sounded as though it had come from somewhere far away. He had the
_Times_ propped up against the sugar basin on his left hand, and he had
just read the announcement of Franklin Marmion's lecture for the
following evening, and this was quite a serious matter for him.

"It's connected with them in this way," said Brenda, leaning her elbows
on the table. "You and Uncle have wanted a coronet in the family, and
you know that I've refused three, because the men who wore them weren't
fit to respect, to say nothing about loving. Well, I've just discovered
that I do love a man who has one coronet now, and will have another some
day, unless something unexpected happens to him; but mind, it's the man
I love and want to marry, and I'd want to do it just the same if he was
still the same man he is, and hadn't either a coronet or a dollar to his
name."

"That's like you, Brenda, and it sounds good," said her father, tearing
his attention away from the alluring title of Franklin Marmion's
lecture. "Now, who is it?"

"If it was only that nice young man, Lord Leighton!" said Mrs van
Huysman, in a voice that sounded like an appeal against the final
judgment of human fate, "but, of course, he's----"

"No, Mammy, that's just what he's _not_ going to do," exclaimed Brenda,
sitting up and clasping her hands behind her neck. "Nitocris Marmion is
in love with some one else, and Lord Leighton is in love with me--at
least he said so last night at 'The Wilderness,' and I don't suppose
he'd have said it if he hadn't