Mrs. Atheling was smiling, though there were indeed some remaining evidences of tears. "He went without bidding me 'good-morning,'

Kitty. What did he say? Is he very angry?"

"Not at all angry. All put on, Mother. He loves Edgar quite as much as you do."

"He can't do that, Kitty. There is nothing like a mother's love."

"Except a father's love. Don't you remember, that G.o.d takes a father's love to express His own great care for us? And when the Prodigal Son came home, Christ makes his father, not his mother, go to meet him."

"That was because Christ knew children were sure and certain of their mother's love and forgiveness. He wasn't so sure of the fathers. So he gave the lesson to them; he knew that mothers did not need it. Mothers are always ready to forgive, Kitty; but there is nothing to forgive in Edgar."

"Is he really coming to-day?"

"Listen to what he says, Kitty. 'Darling Mother, I cannot live another day without seeing you. Let me come to-morrow at two o'clock, and put my arms round you, and kiss you, and talk to you for an hour.

Ask father to let me come. London is not Atheling. If he counts his pa.s.sionate words as forever binding between him and me, surely they are not binding between you and me. Let me see you anyway, Mother. Sweet, dear Mother! When father forgives the rest, he will forgive this also.

Your loving son, Edgar.' Now, Kitty, if Edgar was your son, what would you say?"

"I would say, Come at once, Edgar, and dearly welcome!"

"To be sure you would. So shall I. What is Miss Vyner writing about?"

Then Kitty lifted the squarely folded letter with its great splash of white wax stamped with the Vyner crest, and after a rapid glance at its contents said, "There is likely to be a great House to-night; and the d.u.c.h.ess has three seats in the Ladies Gallery. One is for Annabel, the other for me; and she asks you to take her place. Do go, Mother."

"I'll think about it."

"Don't say that."

"It is all I will say just yet. Did you have a letter from Piers?"

"Yes."

"I knew you would. Go and read it, and tell Dobson to send the cook to me. We want the best lunch that can be made; and put on a pretty dress, Kitty. Edgar must feel that nothing is too good for him."

In accordance with this intent, Mrs. Atheling took particular pains with her own dress; and Kitty thought she had never seen her mother so handsome. Soft brown satin, and gold ornaments, and the bit of lace on her head set off her large, blonde, stately beauty to perfection; while the look of love and anxiety, as the clock moved on to two, gave to her countenance that "something more" without which beauty is only flesh and blood.

She had said to herself that Edgar might be detained, that he might not be able to keep his time, and that she would not feel disappointed if he was a bit behind two o'clock. But fully ten minutes before the hour, she heard his quick, firm knock; and as she stood trembling with joy in the middle of the room, he took her in his arms, and, between laughing and crying, they knew not, either of them, what they said. And then Kitty ran into the room, all a flutter with pale-blue ribbons, and it was a good five minutes before the two women found time to see, and to speak to Cecil North, who stood watching the scene with his kind heart in his face.

Evidently the meeting had bespoke a fortunate hour. The weather, though it was November, was sunny; the lunch was perfection, and they were in the midst of the merriest possible meal when Annabel Vyner and Piers Exham joined them. Annabel had expected nothing better from this visit than an opportunity to show off her familiar relations with Lord Exham, and torment Kitty, as far as she thought it prudent to do so; but Fate had prepared motives more personal and delightful for her,--two handsome young men, whom she at once determined to conquer.

Cecil North made no resistance; he went over heart and head in love with her. Her splendid vitality, her manner,--so demanding and so caressing,--her daring dress, and dazzling jewelry, her altogether unconventional air charmed and vanquished him, and he devoted himself to pleasing her.

During the lunch hour the conversation was general, and very animated.

Annabel excelled herself in her peculiar way of saying things which appeared singularly brilliant, but which really derived all their point from her looks, and shrugs, and flashing movements. The good mother was in an earthly heaven, watching, and listening, and attending to every one's wants, actual and possible. Laughter and repartee and merry jests mingled with bits of social and parliamentary gossip, though politics were instinctively avoided. Piers knew well the opinions of the two men with whom he was sitting; and he was quite capable of respecting them. Besides, he had an old friendship for Edgar Atheling; and he loved his sister, and was well aware that she had much sympathy with her brother's views. So all Annabel's attempts to make a division were futile; no one took up the little challenges she flung into their midst, and the parliamentary talk drifted no nearer dangerous ground than the Ladies Gallery. Piers knew of the invitation given to the Athelings, and he proposed to meet the ladies in the courtyard near the entrance to the exclusive precinct.

"Too exclusive by far," said Annabel. "Why do English ladies submit to that grating? It is a relic of the barbarous ages. I intend to move in the matter. Let us get up a pet.i.tion, or an act, or an agitation of some kind for its removal. I think we should succeed. What do you say, Lord Exham?"

"I think you would _not_ succeed," answered Piers. "I have heard the Duke say that the proposition is frequently made in the House; that it is always enthusiastically cheered; but that every time the question comes practically up, there is a dexterous count out."

"Well, then, I will propose that the front Treasury Bench be taken away, and twenty-four ladies' seats put in its place. Do you see, Mr. North, what I intend by that?"

"I am sure it is something wise and good, Miss Vyner."

"My idea is, that twenty-four ladies should sit there as representatives of the women of England. Twenty-four bishops in lovely lawn sit as representatives of the clergy of England; why should not English women have their representation? I hope while Reformers are correcting the abuses of Representation, they will consider this abuse. Mr. Atheling, what do you say?"

"I am at your service, Miss Vyner."

"Indeed, sir, just at present you are hand and heart in the service of Mrs. Atheling. I must turn to Mr. North."

Then Mrs. Atheling perceived that in her interesting conversation with Edgar, she was keeping her guests at table; and she rose with an apology, and led the way into the parlour. There was a large conservatory opening out of this room, and Kate and Piers, on some pretext of rosebuds, went into it.

"My dear Kate, I have been so unhappy!" he said, taking her hand.

"But why, Piers?"

"We parted so strangely yesterday. I do not know how it happened."

"We were both tired, I think. I was as much in fault as you. Is not this an exquisite flower?" That was the end of the trouble. He drew her to his side, and kissed the hand that touched the flower; and so all explanations were over; and they took up their love-story where the shadow of yesterday had broken it off. And as their hands wandered among the shrubs, it was natural for Piers to notice the ring on Kate's finger. "It is a very singular jewel," he said; "I never saw one like it."

"It is my mother's," answered Kate. "She told me this morning it was her betrothal ring and that father bought it in Venice."

"Kate dear, I wish to get you a ring just like it. Let us ask Mrs.

Atheling if I may show it to my jeweller, and have one made for you."

"I am sure mother will be willing," and she slipped the shining circle from her finger, and gave it to Piers; and he whispered fondly, as he placed it on his own hand, "Will you take it from me, Kate, as a love gage?--never to leave your finger until I put the wife's gold ring above it?"

And what she said need not be told. Many happy words grew from her answer; and they forgot the rosebuds they had come to gather, and the company they had left, and the flight of time, until Edgar came into the conservatory to bid his sister "good-bye." There had been a slight formality between Piers and Edgar at their first meeting; but with Kate standing between them, all the good days on the Yorkshire hills and moors came into their memories, and they clasped hands with their old boyish fervour, and it was "Piers" and "Edgar" again. So the parting was the real meeting; and they went back to the parlour in an unmistakable enthusiasm of good fellowship.

Annabel was then quite ready to leave, and the question of the Ladies Gallery came up for settlement. Mrs. Atheling declared she was too weary to go out; and Kate preferred her own happy thoughts to the tumult of a political quarrel. Annabel was equally indifferent. She had discovered that Mr. North was a son of the Earl of Westover, and might with propriety be asked to the Richmoor opera-box, that there was even an acquaintance strong enough between the families to enable her new lover to pay his respects to the d.u.c.h.ess in the interludes, and, in fact, an understanding to that effect had been made for that very night, if the offer of the seats in the Ladies Gallery was not accepted.

So their refusal caused no regret; for when politics come in compet.i.tion with youth and love, they have scarcely a hearing. But during the slight discussion, Piers found time to speak to Mrs. Atheling about the ring; and the direction of three pair of eyes to the trinket caught Annabel's attention. Her face flamed when she saw that it had pa.s.sed from Kate's hand to the hand of Exham; and for the first time, she had a feeling of active dislike against Kate. Her sweet, calm, innocent beauty, her happy eyes and ingenuous girlish expression, offended her, and set all the worst forces of her soul in revolt.

She did not dare to trust herself with Piers. In her present mood, she knew she would be sure to say something that would hamper her future actions. She declared she would only accept Mr. North's escort to Richmoor House; for she was sure the Duke was expecting Piers to be in his place in the Commons when the vote was taken.

Piers had a similar conviction, and he looked at his watch almost guiltily, and went hurriedly away. Then the little party was soon dispersed; but Mrs. Atheling and Kate were both far too happy to need outside aids. They talked of Edgar and Cecil North, and Annabel's witcheries, and Piers's great and good qualities, and the promised ring, and the excellent lunch, and the general success of the impromptu little feast. Everything had been pleasant, and the Squire's absence was not thought worth worrying about.

"He will come round, bit by bit," said the happy mother. "I know John Atheling. The first thing Edgar does to please him, will put all straight; and Edgar is on the very road to please him most of all."

"What road is that, Mother?"

"Nay, I can't tell you, Kitty; for just yet it is a secret between Edgar and me. He was glad to meet Piers again; and, if I am any judge, they will be better friends than ever before."

Thus the two women talked the evening away, and were by no means sorry to be at their own fireside. "We could have done no good by going to the House," said Kate. "If we were men, it would be different. They like it. Father says the House is the best club in London."

"It gives men a lot of excuses," said Mrs. Atheling, with a sigh. "I dare say your father won't get home till late. You had better go to bed, Kitty."

"Perhaps Piers may come with him."

"I don't think he will. He looked tired when he left here; he will be worse tired when he gets away from the Commons. He said he was going to speak again, if he got the opportunity,--that is, if he could find anything to contradict in Mr. Brougham's speech. Piers likes saying, 'No, sir!' his spurs are always in fighting trim. Go to bed, Kitty.

Piers won't be back to-night, and I can say to father whatever I think proper."

Mrs. Atheling judged correctly. Piers sat a long time before his opportunity came, and then he did not get the best of it. Brougham's followers overflowed the Opposition benches, the Government side, and the gangway, and Piers exhausted himself vainly in an endeavour to get a hearing. It was late when he returned to Richmoor House, but the Duke was still absent, and the d.u.c.h.ess and Annabel at the opera. He went to the Duke's private parlour, for there were some things he felt he must discuss before another day's sitting; and the warmth and stillness, added to his own mental and physical weariness, soon overcame all the resistance he could make. The couch on which he had thrown himself was also a drowsy place; it seemed to sink softly down, and down, until Piers was far below the tide of thought, or even dreams.