rt, that she can ask such a question? But can I wonder at that? Of
what account was I or my love to her father, although I sacrificed
myself for his good name? Can I expect that she should be of a different
clay?'

And then, meditating upon the events of the summer that was gone, Lady
Maulevrier thought--

She renounced her first lover at my bidding; she renounces her love for
me at the bidding of the world. Or was it not rather self-interest, the
fear of making a bad marriage, which influenced her in her renunciation
of Mr. Hammond. It was not obedience to me, it was not love for me which
made her give him up. It was the selfishness engrained in her race.
Well, I have heaped my love upon her, because she is fair and sweet, and
reminds me of my own youth. I must let her go, and try to be happy in
the knowledge that she is enjoying her life far away from me.'

Lady Maulevrier wrote her consent to the extension of Lesbia's visit,
and by return of post came a letter from Lesbia which seemed brimming
over with love, and which comforted the grandmother's wounded heart.

'Lady Kirkbank and I are both agreed, dearest, that you must join us at
Cannes,' wrote Lesbia. 'At your age it is very wrong of you to spend a
winter in our horrible climate. You can travel with Steadman and your
maid. Lady Kirkbank will secure you a charming suite of rooms at the
hotel, or she would like it still better if you would stay at her own
villa. Do consent to this plan, dear grandmother, and then we shall not
be parted for a long winter. Of course Mary would be quite happy at home
running wild.'

Lady Maulevrier sighed as she read this letter, sighed again, and
heavily, as she put it back into the envelope. Alas, how many and many a
year had gone, long, monotonous, colourless years, since she had seen
that bright southern world which she was now urged to revisit. In fancy
she saw it again to-day, the tideless sea of deepest sapphire blue, the
little wavelets breaking on a yellow beach, the white triangular sails,
the woods full of asphodel and great purple and white lilies, the
atmosphere steeped in warmth and light and perfume, the glare of white
houses in the sun, the red and yellow blinds, the pots of green and
orange and crimson clay, with oleanders abloom, the wonderful glow of
colour everywhere and upon all things. And then as the eyes of the mind
recalled these vivid images her bodily eyes looked out upon the
rain-blotted scene, the mou