attracted.

"I hope I'm not late," said the soft voice. "You see, no one expected
Sir Timothy to come home so soon, and I was out. Is that Cousin John?
We met once before, at my wedding. You have not changed a bit; I
remember you quite well," said Lady Mary. She came forward and held
out two welcoming hands to her visitor.

John Crewys bowed over those little white hands, and became suddenly
conscious that his vague, romantic sentiment had given place to a very
real emotion--an almost passionate anxiety to shield one so fair and
gentle from the trouble which was threatening her, and of which, as he
knew, she was perfectly unconscious.

The warmth of her impulsive welcome did not, of course, escape the
keen eyes of the sisters-in-law, which, in such matters as these, were
quite undimmed by age.

"Why didn't somebody pour out tea?" said Lady Mary.

"We know your rights, Mary," said Miss Crewys. "Never shall it be said
that dear Timothy's sisters ousted his wife from her proper place,
because she did not happen to be present to occupy it."

"Besides," said Lady Belstone, "you have, no doubt, some excellent
reason, my love, for the delay."

Lady Mary's blue eyes, glancing at John, said quite plainly and
beseechingly to his understanding, "They are old, and rather cranky,
but they don't mean to be unkind. Do forgive them;" and John smiled