“Poor child!  To be parted from her husband more than half her time.  Is Captain Stillwater now at sea?”

“I think he must be, sir, as there has hardly been time for his return since he sailed soon after his marriage.”

“Do you know where Mrs. Stillwater lives?”

“I do not, sir; but I might find out by inquiring of some mutual acquaintance.”

“Do so.  And, Mrs. Rockharrt,” the King added, turning to his little old wife, “you will write a note to Mrs. Stillwater, inviting her to join our party for a summer tour, and as our guest, remember.  Fabian, you will see that the note reaches the lady in time.”

“I will do my best, sir,” said Mr. Fabian.

“Very well,” said the wife.

The note of invitation to Mrs. Stillwater was written.  Mr. Fabian used such dispatch in his search for the lady that his efforts were soon rewarded with success.  A letter came from Mrs. Stillwater, postmarked Baltimore, in which she cordially thanked Mrs. Rockharrt for her invitation, gratefully accepted it, and offered to join the Rockharrt party at any point most convenient to the latter.  This answer was communicated to the family autocrat, who thereupon issued his commands: 

“Write and say to Mrs. Stillwater that we will stop at Baltimore on our way, and call for her at her hotel on Friday; but say that if she should not be ready, we will wait her convenience.”

This letter was also written and sent off.

Three days later the whole family left the capital for Baltimore, which they reached at night.  They went directly to the hotel where Mrs. Stillwater was staying, and engaged rooms for their whole party.

They scarcely took time enough to wash the travel dust from their faces and brush it from their hair, and change their traveling suits for fresher dresses, before they hurried down stairs to their private parlor, whence Mrs. Rockharrt sent her own and her granddaughter’s cards to Mrs. Stillwater’s room.

A few minutes after, the young siren appeared.

“Heavens! how beautiful she is!  More beautiful than before!  Look, Cora!  Was there ever such a perfect creature?” said Mr. Clarence, under his breath.

Cora looked at her former governess with a start of involuntary wonder and admiration.  Rose Stillwater was more beautiful than ever.  Her exquisite oval face was a little more rounded.  Her fair complexion had a richer bloom on the cheeks and lips.  Her hair was darker in the shade and brighter in the light; her blue eyes were softer and sweeter; her graceful form fuller.  She was dressed in some floating material that enveloped her figure like a cloud.

She came, blooming, beaming, smiling, into the room, where all arose to meet her.  She went first to Mr. Rockharrt, and bent and almost knelt before him, and raised his hand to her lips as if he had been her sovereign; and then, before he could respond—­for she saw that he was slightly embarrassed as well as greatly pleased by this adoration—­she turned and sank into the arms of old Mrs. Rockharrt, and cooed forth: