which gave them a curiously mediaeval look.

"Hallo, Mrs. Blades!" Owen's voice made her turn round quickly. "The Ten
Little Ladies going as strong as ever, I see!"

"Yes, Mr. Owen, they're still on the go." She regarded the lamps
affectionately. "At first Mr. Leetham used to say a good big lamp would
be best, at the head of the stairs; but afterwards he got to like the
Little Ladies, and we've had 'em every night."

"We'll have to go on having them," declared Owen. "Look, Toni, they're
really quite pretty, aren't they? And thanks to Mrs. Blades they give a
jolly good light."

"But--the 'Little Ladies'?" Toni looked, as she felt, puzzled.

"Yes, it was a fancy of my father's. He would never have gas anywhere
except in the kitchens; and the long gallery upstairs, where all the
bedrooms are, was always as dark as Erebus." He laughed, catching sight
of the blank look on Mrs. Blades' face at the word. "So my mother
invented these lamps, years ago when I was a tiny kid, and every night
they are fixed at intervals along the walls of the gallery."

"But the name?"

"Oh, I don't know who first christened them, but they've always been
known as the Ten Little Ladies--and always will be, I suppose. Eh, Mrs.
Blades?"

"So long as I'm here, sir, I hope they will be," rejoined Mrs. Blades
somewhat formally; and something in her tone made Owen remember his
resolve.

He looked round. The door was open into the passage, a rosy-cheeked maid
waiting, apparently, to carry off the tray with the Little Ladies; but
on Owen approaching with the intention of closing the door she withdrew
modestly out of earshot.

Coming back to the table Owen took one of Toni's hands in his and turned
to the old housekeeper, who glanced with sudden shrewdness at the girl's
shy face.

"Mrs. Blades," said Owen quietly, "Miss Gibbs has promised to marry me;
and I hope that before many weeks are over we shall come down to live at
Greenriver. Well, what do you say? Will you welcome us when we come?"

The half-boyish, half-masterful tone in which he spoke seemed too much
for the old woman, who had watched Owen grow from boy to man, and now,
after a lapse of years, saw him in his manhood. She looked first at him,
then at the pale girl by his side, and her features worked oddly.

"Come, Mrs. Blades!" Owen had had enough of tears for one afternoon.
"Cheer up! Don't look as if we were going to cut off your head! That's a
poor welcome to Miss Gibbs!"

T