ascending.

"I beg your parding, Sir Heverard," said the valet; "but we was all
very anxious about you. Sir Galahad came galloping home riderless,
and--"

"That will do, Edward. You did not disturb Lady Kingsland?"

"No, Sir Heverard."

Sir Everard passed abruptly on and sought the stables at once. Sir
Galahad was there, undergoing his morning toilet, and greeted his
master with a loud neigh of delight.

The young baronet dawdled away the lagging morning hours, smoking
endless cigars under the waving trees, and waiting for the time when my
lady should be visible. She rarely rose before noon, but to-day she
deigned to get up at nine. Sir Everard flung away his last cigar, and
went bounding up the grand stairs three at a time.

Lady Kingsland sat breakfasting in her boudoir with her daughter--a
charming little bijou of a room, all filigree work, and fluted walls,
delicious little Greuze paintings, and flowers and perfume--and Lady
Kingsland, in an exquisitely becoming robe de matin, at five-and-fifty
looked fair and handsome, and scarce middle-aged yet. Time, that deals
so gallantly with these blonde beauties, had just thinned the fair hair
at the parting, and planted dainty crow's-feet about the patrician
mouth, but left no thread of silver under the pretty Parisian lace cap.

Mildred Kingsland, opposite her mother, scarcely bore her thirty years