es.
"Now, Marion, put your trust in me. You have had no breakfast this
morning, I am sure."

Raising the delicate figure in her arms, the countess kissed the weeping
face.

"Trust in me," she repeated; "all will be well. Let me see you take some
coffee."

The countess rang and ordered some coffee; then, when she had compelled
Lady Marion to drink it, she kissed her again.

"Do you know how it will end?" she said gently, "all this crying and
fasting and sorrow? You will make yourself very ill, and then Lance will
never forgive himself. Do be reasonable, Marion, and leave it all with
me."

But after the countess had left her, Lady Marion still felt very ill;
she had never felt so ill; she tried to walk from her dressing-room to
her bedroom, and to the great alarm of her maid, she fell fainting to
the ground.

The doctor came, the same physician who had attended her for some years
since she was a child, and he looked very grave when he heard of the
long deathlike swoon. He sat talking to her for some time.

"Do you think I am very ill, doctor?" she asked.

He answered:

"You are not very well, my dear Lady Chandos."

"Do you think I will die?"

"Not of this illness, please God," he said. "Now, if you will promise me
not to be excited, I will tell you something," and, bending down, he
whispered something in her ear.

A flood of light and rapture came in her face, her eyes filled with joy.

"Do you mean it? Is it really true?" she asked.

"Really true; but remember all depends on yourself;" and the doctor went
away, leaving behind him a heart full of emotion, of pleasure, of pain,
hope, and regret.

Meanwhile, the countess for the second time had sought her son. Her
stern, grave face, her angry eyes, the repressed pride and emotion that
he saw in every gesture, told him that the time for jesting or evasion
had passed.

"Lance," said my lady, sternly, "you are a man now. I cannot command you
as I did when you were a boy."

"No, mother; that is quite true. Apropos of what do you say that?"

"I am afraid the sin of your manhood will be greater than the follies of
your youth," she said.

"It is just possible," he replied, indifferently.

"You have heard that you have been mentioned for the vacant Garter, and
that it is highly probable you may receive it?"

"I have heard so," he answered, indifferently.

"I want to ask you a straightforward question. Do you think it worth
your while to risk that, to