"Yes; glad. It is such a comfort to dwell on it," says Lady Rylton,
still dabbing her eyes. "He was happy--quite happy when he left me."

"I never saw anyone so happy," says Mrs. Bethune.

Her voice sounds choking; no doubt it is emotion. She rises and goes
to the window. The emotion seems to have got into her shoulders.

"All which proves," goes on Lady Rylton, turning to Margaret, "that
a marriage based on friendship, even between two young people, is
often successful."

"But surely in your case there was love on one side," says Miss
Knollys, a little impatiently. "My uncle----"

"Oh, he _adored_ me!" cries she ecstatically, throwing up her pretty
hands, her vanity so far overcoming her argument that she grows
inconsistent. "You know," with a little simper, "I was a belle in my
day."

"I have heard it," says Margaret hastily, who, indeed, has heard it
_ad nauseam_. "But with regard to this marriage, Tessie, I don't
believe you will get Maurice to even think of it."

"If I don't, then he is ruined!" Lady Rylton gets up from her chair,
and takes a step or two towards Margaret. "This house-party that I
have arranged, with this girl in it, is a last effort," says she in
a low voice, but rather hysterically. She clasps her hands together.
"He must--he _must_ marry her. If he refuses----"