ould I destroy
your illusions? Only, my wife,--we have been all in all to each
other,--and now I have a foolish feeling as if things were going to be
different--as if we should not be so much together--and I wish--I wish
to God I could keep you all to myself without anybody's interference!"

She looked at him in wonder, though she smiled.

"But you have changed, my boy, since the morning," she said. "Then you
did wish me to be particular in dress,--and to wear your jewels, for
this Lady Winsleigh. Now your eyes are sad, and you seem as if you would
rather not go at all. Well, is it not easy to remain at home? I will
take off these fine things, and we will sit together and read. Shall it
be so?"

He laughed. "I believe you would do it if I asked you!" he said.

"But, of course! I am quite happy alone with you. I care nothing for
this party,--what is it to me if you do not wish to go?"

He kissed her again. "Thelma, don't spoil me too much! If you let me
have my own way to such an extent, who knows what an awful domestic
tyrant I may become! No, dear--we must go tonight--there's no help for
it. You see we've accepted the invitation, and it's no use being
churlish. Besides, after all"--he gazed at her admiringly--"I want them
to see my Norwegian rose! Come along! The carriage is waiting."

They passed out into the hall, where Britta was in attendance with a
long cloak of pale-blue plush lined with white fur, in which she
tenderly enveloped her beloved "Froeken," her rosy face beaming with
affectionate adoration as she glanced from the fair diamond-crowned head
down to the point of a small pearl-embroidered shoe that peeped beneath
the edge of the rich, sheeny white robe, and saw that nothing was
lacking to the most perfect toilette that ever woman wore.

"Good-night, Britta!" said Thelma kindly. "You must not sit up for me.
You will be tired."

Britta smiled--it was evident she meant to outwatch the stars, if
necessary, rather than allow her mistress to be unattended on her
return. But she said nothing--she waited at the door while Philip
assisted his wife into the carriage--and still stood musingly under the
wide portico, after they had driven away.

"Hadn't you better come in, Miss Britta?" said the butler
respectfully,--he had a great regard for her ladyship's little maid.

Britta, recalled to herself, started, turned, and re-entered the hall.

"There will be many fine folks there to-night, I suppose?" she a