"We had an escort. Lord Francis Carew and Mr. De Burgh came over to luncheon, and they rode with us."

"Ha, Errington! you see the result of leaving this fair lady's side all unguarded! These fellows come and usurp your duties."

"Do you think I should wish Lady Alice to forego any amus.e.m.e.nt because I am so unlucky as to be prevented from joining her?" returned Errington, in a deep mellow voice.

Katherine looked across the table to see how Lady Alice took the remark, but she was rearranging some geraniums and a spray of fern in her waistband, and did not seem to hear. She was a slight colorless girl of nineteen, with regular features, an unformed though rather graceful figure, and a distinguished air.

Errington caught the expression of his neighbor's face as she glanced at his _fiancee_, a sympathetic smile parting her lips. It was rarely that a countenance had struck him so much, which was probably due to his odd but strong impression that his new acquaintance, was both startled and displeased at being introduced to him--an impression very strange to Errington, as he was generally welcomed by all sorts and conditions of men, and especially of women.

The silence of Lady Alice did not seem to disturb her lover; he turned to Katherine and asked, "Were you of the riding party to-day!"

"No," she replied, meeting his eyes fully for an instant, and then averting her own, while the color came and went on her cheek; "I only arrived in time for dinner."

"Have I ever met this young lady before?" thought Errington, much puzzled. "Have I ever unconsciously offended or annoyed her? I don't think so; yet her face is not quite strange to me." And he applied himself to his dinner.

"I fancy you have had rather a dull time of it in town?" said Colonel Ormonde, leaning back, while the servants removed the dishes.

"No, I was not dull," replied Katherine, glad to turn to him. "I was very comfortable, and of course not in a mood to see many strangers or to go anywhere. Then I was interested in Mr. Payne's undertakings; they are quite as amusing as amus.e.m.e.nts."

"Bertie Payne! to be sure; the nephew or brother of your doughty chaperon. He is always up to some benevolent games. Queer fellow."

"He is very, _very_ good," said Katherine, warmly, "and he _does_ so much good; only the amount of evil is overpowering."

"Yes," said Errington; "I am afraid such efforts as Payne's are mere scratching of the surface, and will never touch the root of the evil."

"I suspect he is a prey to impostors of every description," said Colonel Ormonde, with a fat laugh. "He is always worrying for subscriptions and G.o.d knows what. But I turn a deaf ear to him."

"I cannot say I do always," remarked Errington. "While we devise schemes of more scientific amelioration, hundreds die of sharp starvation or misery long drawn out. Payne is a good fellow, and enthusiasts have their uses."

"You are so liberal yourself, Mr. Errington," cried Mrs. Ormonde, "I dare say you are often imposed upon in spite of your wisdom."

"My wisdom!" repeated Errington, laughing. "What an original idea, Mrs.

Ormonde! Did you ever know I was accused of wisdom?" he added, addressing Lady Alice.

"Papa says you are very sensible," she returned, seriously.

"Of course," cried Mrs. Ormonde. "Why, he has written a pamphlet on 'Our Colonies,' and something wonderful about the state of Europe--didn't he, Mr. Heywood?"

"Yes," returned the rector. "I suspect our future member will be a cabinet minister before the world is many years older."

Lady Alice looked up with more of pleasure and animation than she had yet shown. Errington bent his head.

"Many thanks for your prophecy;" and he immediately turned the conversation to the ever-genial topics of hunting and horses. Then Mrs.

Ormonde gave the signal of retreat to the drawing-room.

Here Katherine looked in vain for her nephews.

"I suppose the boys have gone to bed, Ada?"

"To bed! oh yes, of course. Why, it is more than half past eight; it would never do to keep them up so late. Would you like to see baby boy asleep? he looks quite beautiful."

"Yes, I should, very much," returned Katherine, anxious to gratify the mother.

"Come, then," cried Mrs. Ormonde, starting up with alacrity. As the invitation was general, Lady Alice said, in her gentle way.

"Thank you; I saw the baby yesterday."

"She has really very little feeling," observed Mrs. Ormonde, as she went upstairs with her sister-in-law. "She never notices baby."

"I am afraid I should not notice children much if they did not belong to me."

"My dear Katherine, you are quite different. Of course Lady Alice is sweet and elegant, but not clever. Indeed, I cannot see the use of cleverness to women. There is a fine aristocratic air about her. After all, there is nothing like high birth. I a.s.sure you it is a high compliment her being allowed to stay here. Her aunt, Lady Mary Vincent, is a very fine lady indeed, and chaperons Lady Alice. But her father, Lord Melford, is a curious, reckless sort of man, always wandering about--yachting and that kind of thing; he is rather in difficulties too. They are glad enough to send her down here to see something of Errington. You know Errington is a very good match; he has bought a great deal of the Melford property, and when old Errington dies he will be immensely rich. The poor old man is in miserable health; he has not been down here all the winter. I believe the wedding is to take place in June; we will be invited, of course; you see Colonel Ormonde is so highly connected that I am in a very different position from what I was accustomed to. And you, dear, you _must_ marry some person of rank; there is nothing like it."

"Yes," said Katherine, with a sigh, "everything is changed."

"Fortunately!" cried the exultant Mrs. Ormonde, opening the door of a luxuriously appointed nursery.

"Here, nurse, I have brought Miss Liddell to see Master Ormonde."

A middle-aged woman, well dressed, and of authoritative aspect, rose from where she sat at needle-work, and came forward.

"I have only just got him to sleep, ma'am," she said, almost in a whisper, "and if he is awoke now, I'll not get him off again before midnight."

"We'll be very careful, nurse. Is he not a fine little fellow, Katherine?" and she softly turned back the bedclothes from the st.u.r.dy, chubby child, who had a somewhat bull dog style of countenance and a beautifully fair skin.

"How ridiculously like Colonel Ormonde he is!" whispered Katherine. "I do not see any trace of you."

"No; he is quite an Ormonde. He is twice as big as either Cis or Charlie was at his age."

After a few civil comments Katherine suggested their visiting the other children.

"Perhaps it would be wiser not to go," said the mother; "they will not be so sound asleep as baby, and----"

"You must indulge me this once, Ada. I long to look at them."

"Oh! of course, dear; ring for Eliza, nurse; she will show Miss Liddell the way. I must go back; it would never do to leave Lady Alice so long alone."

"Do not apologize," said Katherine, with a curious jealous pang, as she noted Mrs. Ormonde's indifference to the children of her first poor love-match.

A demure, flat-faced girl answered the bell, and led Katherine down pa.s.sages and up a crooked stair to another part of the house.

Here she was shown into a room spa.r.s.ely supplied with old furniture.

There was a good fire, and a shaded lamp stood on a large table, where a girl sat writing.

"Here is a lady to see the young gentlemen," said the nurse-maid. The young scribe started up, looking confused.

"If it would not disturb them," said Katherine, gently, "I should like to see my nephews in their sleep."