ink," he pursued, "that if I leave here on the twenty-seventh that
will be soon enough."

"Yes," said the countess, quietly. "It is not such a long journey, after
all."

So she would not oppose him, she would not argue with him, but left him
to take his own way. The handsome face grew shadowed, the frank eyes
troubled. It is very hard when a man cannot force any one to contradict
him. He rose from his chair, he walked uneasily up and down the room; he
spoke almost nervously on one or two points and then he said:

"Mother, I suppose you know what I intend doing."

She looked up at him with the blandest smile and the sweetest air.

"Doing, Lance--about the boat to-night, do you mean?"

She purposely affected to misunderstand him.

"The boat?" he repeated. "No, I mean about--my--my--future--my
marriage."

"I cannot say that I know what you intend doing, Lance, but I am quite
sure you will never again have the bad taste to offend your father and
me. I can trust you so far."

He looked still more uncomfortable; he could always manage the countess
better when she was angry than when she was amiable. He stopped abruptly
before her, and looking at her said:

"I must marry Leone, mother, I must."

"Very well, Lance. When you are twenty-one, you can do as you like."

"Oh, mother," cried the young lord, "be more humane, do not be so frigid
and cold; speak to me about it. I am your only son, surely my marriage
is a matter of some importance to you."

There was a passion of entreaty in his voice, and Lady Lanswell looked
kindly at him.

"Certainly your marriage is of more importance than anything else on
earth; but you cannot expect me to look with favor on that tempestuous
young person who ranted at me like a third-rate actress from a traveling
theater; you must excuse me, Lance, but there are limits to human
endurance, and she is beyond mine."

"Mother, let me be happy, let me go and marry her, let me bring her back
here and we shall all be happy together."

"My dear Lance, I should not consider a person of her position a fit
companion for my maid; for myself, I quite declare I shall not oppose
your marriage with the girl--it is quite useless, since you are of age,
to do as you like; but I shall never see you or speak to you again; when
you leave me here for that purpose our good-bye will last beyond death.
Still you understand I do not seek to win you from your purpose, you are
free to do as you will."

The