d arrived; and
the lady seized it with alacrity. She turned to Sir Oswald with a smile.

"You amuse me," she said, "by giving yourself such an air of age. Why do
you consider yourself so old, Sir Oswald? If it were not that I feared
to flatter you, I should say that there were few young men to compare
with you."

"My dear Lady Hampton," returned the baronet, in a voice that was not
without pathos, "look at this."

He placed his thin white hand upon his white hair. Lady Hampton laughed
again.

"What does that matter? Why, many men are gray even in their youth. I
have always wondered why you seek to appear so old, Sir Oswald. I feel
sure, judging from many indications, that you cannot be sixty."

"No; but I am over fifty--and my idea is that, at fifty, one is really
old."

"Nothing of the kind!" she said, with great energy. "Some of the finest
men I have known were only in the prime of life then. If you were
seventy, you might think of speaking as you do. Sir Oswald," she asked,
abruptly, looking keenly at his face, "why have you never married?"

He smiled, but a flush darkened the fine old face.

"I was in love once," he replied, simply, "and only once. The lady was
young and fair. She loved me in return. But a few weeks before our
marriage she was suddenly taken ill and died. I have never even thought
of replacing her."

"How sad! What sort of a lady was she, Sir Oswald--this fair young love
of yours?"

"Strange to say, in face, figure, and manner she somewhat resembled your
lovely young niece, Lady Hampton. She had the same quiet, graceful
manner, the same polished grace--so different from----"

"From Miss Darrell," supplied the lady, promptly. "How that unfortunate
girl must jar upon you!"

"She does; but there are times when I have hopes of her. We are talking
like old friends now, Lady Hampton. I may tell you that I think there is
one and only one thing that can redeem my niece, and that is love. Love
works wonders sometimes, and I have hopes that it may do so in her case.
A grand master-passion such as controls the Darrells when they love at
all--that would redeem her. It would soften that fierce pride and
hauteur, it would bring her to the ordinary level of womanhood; it would
cure her of many of the fantastic ideas that seem to have taken
possession of her; it would make her--what she certainly is not now--a
gentlewoman."

"Do you think so?" queried Lady Hampton, doubtfully.

"I am sure of it.