yet swiftly, leaves the room. Sir Maurice is only crossing the lawn
now, and by running through the hall outside, and getting on to the
veranda outside the dining-room window, she can see him before he
enters the drawing-room.

Gaining the veranda, she leans over the railings and makes a signal
to him; it is an old signal. Rylton responds to it, and in a second
is by her side.

"Oh no, you must not stay; your mother is waiting for you in the
south drawing-room. She saw you coming; she wants you."

"Well, but about what?" asks Rylton, naturally bewildered.

"Nothing--only--she is going to advise you for your good. Shall I,"
smiling at him in her beautiful way, and laying one hand upon his
breast--"shall I advise you, too?"

"Yes, yes," says Rylton; he takes the hand lying on his breast and
lifts it to his lips. "Advise me."

"Ah, no!" She pauses, a most eloquent pause, filled with a long deep
glance from her dark eyes. _"There, go!"_ she says, suddenly pushing
him from her.

"But your advice?" asks he, holding her.

"Pouf! as if that was worth anything." She looks up at him from
under her lowered lids. "Well, take it. My advice to you is to come
to the rose-garden as soon as possible, and see the roses before