play with it. Can't you bring yours, too, and then we will each have
one. You are going to live always at papa's house, you know, and you
can tell me stories. Jane said I would have to learn lessons, will I?"

"Oh, I should so like to teach you," says Violet, flushing.

"But you must not scold me! Papa never lets any one scold me," she
announces, with a positive air.

"I never should," and Violet wipes away some tears. "I shall always
love you."

"Oh, don't cry!" Cecil is deeply moved now, and her own lovely eyes
fill. Grandon winks his hard and turns his face aside. They are two
children comforting one another.

Violet is quite amazed as they drive around the wide sweep of gravelled
way. Floyd hands her out. "This is your home henceforth," he says. "You
and Cecil are the two treasures I have brought to it, and I hope
neither of you will take wings and fly away. I shall look for you both
to make me very happy."

He has touched the right chord. She glances up and smiles, and is
transfigured in spite of the dismal mourning gear. If she _can_ do
anything for him! If the benefits will not always lie on his side!

He takes her straight through to the elegant drawing-room. She shall be
paid the honors in her own proper sphere. While he is waiting he unties
the ugly little bonnet and takes her out of her crape shroud, as it
looks to him.

"Mrs. Grandon has gone out to drive," announces Mary, who has been
instructed to say just this, without a bit of apology.

Gertrude stands in the doorway. She nearly always wears long white
woollen wrappers that cling to her figure and trail on the ground, and
intensify the appearance of attenuation. A pale lavender Shetland shawl
is wrapped about her. She has had quite a discussion with her mother,
in which she had evinced unwonted spirit. Floyd has been good to them,
and it will be dreadfully ungenerous to begin by treating his wife
badly.

Her brother's face is flashed with indignation. "I am glad you had the
grace to come, Gertrude," he exclaims, pointedly, and takes her over to
Violet, who looks up entreatingly at the tall figure.

"Oh," she says, confusedly, "what a little dot you are! And Violet is
such a pretty name for you."

"I hope you will like me. I hope----"

"If you can put up with me," is the rejoinder. "I am in wretched health
and scarcely stir from my sofa, but I am sure I _shall_ like you"; and
Gertrude resolves bravely that she will be on the side of the