a fine pocket handkerchief and held it toward the
girl, with the most anxious look possible to imagine.

"Wipe your eyes, dear young lady, wipe your eyes. We are coming to
Houghton, and I would not have you seen with that face for the world."

"Yes," said the young man, looking out, "yonder is Houghton Castle."

CHAPTER XXII.

THE OLD COUNTESS.

"I will see her now, Judson." The old lady of Houghton came out from her
dressing-room as she said this.

She had a little cap of gossamer lace and silver ribbon on that shaking
head, and tied a girdle of silken cord around the floating folds of her
cashmere morning robe, which would better have concealed the attenuated
figure underneath, had it been permitted to float loose, as it had done.
But the dainty old lady still felt a stir of feminine pride in her
toilet, and though the exertion took away all her strength, she had made
these pretty additions to her dress, rather than meet her grandchild,
for the first time, in the disarray of an invalid.

"I will see her now, Judson."

She repeated this, panting for breath, as she sank down to the couch in
her favorite tower-chamber, and took the delicate handkerchief of lace
and cambric, on which Judson had just dropped some pungent perfume.

Judson left the room; directly the red curtain parted again, and behind
the grim waiting-maid came a young girl, flushed with excitement and
rosy with perfect health, but so strangely dressed that the old countess
uttered a little exclamation of surprise, mingled perhaps with a little
displeasure. The jaunty hat with its blue streamers, the double-breasted
jacket, glittering with buttons, took away her breath.

Lady Clara hesitated a moment, took off her hat hurriedly, like a
naughty boy, and came forward with an easy step, as if she had been in a
forest, and the high heels of her pretty boots trampling down wood moss,
instead of the tangle of flowers in that sumptuous carpet.

The old lady sat gazing on her full half a minute. The girl flushed
crimson under the steady look of those brown eyes, turned around and
gave her hat a toss to Judson, who let it fall in her astonishment at
the audacious act, and came forward, half-indignant, half-crying.

"Grandmother!"

As that fresh, young voice fell upon her, the old countess reached forth
her hand.

"My child!"

The old voice was faint, but kind. Lovely as that young creature was,
she brought sadness and disappointment with h