ome,
and Rupert and May were always glad to have her. So papa drove her over
nearly every day, or else came to fetch the other two to Jocyln Hall.
Lady Thetford was ever most gracious, and the colonel's hopes ran high.

Summer waned. It was October, and Lady Thetford began talking of leaving
St. Gosport for a season; her health was not good, and change of air was
recommended.

"I can leave my children in charge of Mrs. Weymore," she said. "I have
every confidence in her; and she has been with me so long. I think I
shall depart next week, Dr. Gale says I have delayed too long."

Colonel Jocyln looked up uneasily. They were sitting alone together,
looking at the red October sunset blazing itself out behind the Devon
hills.

"We will miss you very much," he said, softly. "I will miss you."

Something in his tone struck Lady Thetford. She turned her dark eyes
upon him in surprise and sudden alarm. The look had to be answered;
rather embarrassed, and not at all so confident as he thought he would
have been, Colonel Jocyln asked Lady Thetford to be his wife.

There was a blank pause. Then,

"I am very sorry, Colonel Jocyln. I never thought of this."

He looked at her, pale--alarmed.

"Does that mean no, Lady Thetford?"

"It means no, Colonel Jocyln. I have never thought of you save as a
friend; as a friend I still wish to retain you. I will never marry. What
I am to-day, I will go to my grave. My boy has my whole heart--there is
no room in it for anyone else. Let us be friends, Colonel Jocyln,"
holding out her white, jeweled hand, "more, no mortal man can ever be to
me."

CHAPTER VIII.

LADY THETFORD'S BALL.

Years came, and years went, and thirteen passed away. In all these
years, with their countless changes, Thetford Towers had been a deserted
house. Comparatively speaking, of course; Mrs. Weymore, the governess,
Mrs. Hilliard, the housekeeper, Mr. Jarvis, the butler, and their minor
satellites, served there still, but its mistress and her youthful son
had been absent. Only little May had remained under Mrs. Weymore's
charge until within the last two years, and then she, too, had gone to
Paris to a finishing school.

Lady Thetford came herself to the Towers to fetch her--the only time in
these thirteen years. She had spent them pleasantly enough, rambling
about the Continent, and in her villa on the Arno, for her health was
frail, and growing daily frailer, and demanded a sunny, Southern
climate.