“What was the letter you were reading this morning when I came in?”

“A letter?”

He brings himself back to the present with an effort.

“Yes.  It was so interesting,” says she, making him a little malicious grimace, “that you could not spare a moment from the reading of it to acknowledge my presence.”

“It was from my mother.”

“No wonder it was so engrossing,” says Tita naughtily.  “Well——­”

“It isn’t well; it is ill,” returns he, laughing.  “She says she is coming to stay with us for a week or so on her way to Lady Sarah’s.”

“Why is she coming?”

“For our sins, I suppose.  I really don’t know any other reason.”  He casts an anxious glance at her.  “I am afraid that you won’t care about it.”

“Well, I shan’t,” says Tita frankly; “but if she wants to come, there is nothing more to be said.  What I am afraid of is that Marian won’t like it.”

“Marian?”

“Yes, Marian.  It struck me that she was not very fond of your mother.  Was I right?”

“I could not possibly answer for Marian.”

“No?”

“Certainly not.”

“Yet I thought,” with a swift glance, “that you were the one person in the world who could have told me all about her.”

“You were wrong, then.  I have known Marian, and—­liked her; but I think no human being can answer for another’s likes and dislikes.”

“Perhaps so.”  She looks down thoughtfully.  “When is your mother coming?”

“To-morrow.  I shall run up to town and meet her, and bring her on.”

“You will be back to-morrow night?”

“Well, she seems to think so; but I expect she will be tired, and stay in town until next morning.  In the meantime,” smiling at her, “I leave the house and the guests and everything in your charge.”

“How delightful!” cries Tita, clapping her hands.

Rylton turns away.

CHAPTER IV.

HOW TITA’S SOUL AT LAST IS STIRRED; AND HOW HER HAPPINESS IS
THREATENED AND HERSELF SET AT NAUGHT; AND HOW MINNIE HESCOTT SPEAKS.

“Such a day to go out on the lake!” says Mrs. Bethune, with a contemptuous curve of her lip.  “Really, that old woman must be as mad as she is disagreeable.”

“Well, she could hardly be more so,” says Mrs. Chichester.

They are all in the oriel chamber, the windows of which look upon the lake, and now they can see Randall and Miss Gower rowing apparently in the utmost peace across it.

“She has a perfect passion for boating,” says Margaret.

“So I should say.  I dare say it seems to her pretty and idyllic.”

“Her passions ought to be at a low ebb by this time,” says Mrs. Bethune with a sneer.  She has suffered many things at the old maid’s hands.

“Well, let us pray Randal will bring her home in safety,” says Tita, laughing.