so gracefully. She had had her little romance, and it had been
incontinently nipped in the bud by imperious mamma, and she had
dutifully yielded, with the pain sharp in her heart all the same. But
he was poor, and Mildred was weak, and so Lady Kingsland's only
daughter glided uncomplainingly into old-maidenhood.

My lady glanced over her shoulder, and greeted her son with a bright,
loving smile. He was her darling and her pride--her earthly idol--the
last of the Kingslands.

"Good-morning, Everard! I thought you would have done Mildred and
myself the honor of breakfasting with us. Perhaps it is not too late
yet. May I offer you a cup of chocolate?"

"Not at all too late, mother mine. I accept your offer and your
chocolate on the spot. Milly, good-morning! You are white as your
dress! What is the matter?"

"Mildred is fading away to a shadow of late," his mother said. "I must
take her to the sea-shore for change."

"When?" asked Sir Everard.

"Let me see. Ah! when you are married, I think. What time did you
come home last night, and how is Lady Louise?"

"Lady Louise is very well. My good mother"--half laughing--"are you
very anxious for a daughter-in-law at Kingsland to quarrel with?"

"I shall not quarrel with Lady Louise."