"And you would hint at some alliance between you and this Anne Ashton!"
cried the countess-dowager, in a fume; for she thought she saw a fear
that the great prize might slip through her fingers. "What sort of an
alliance, I should like to ask? Be careful what you say, Hartledon; you
may injure the young woman."

"I'll take care I don't injure Anne Ashton," returned Lord Hartledon,
enjoying her temper. "As to an alliance with her--my earnest wish is, as
it was my father's, that time may bring it about. Val there knows I wish
it."

Val glanced at his brother by way of answer. He had taken no part in the
discussion; his slight lips were drawn down, as he balanced a pair of
scissors on his forefinger, and he looked less good-tempered than usual.

"Has she red hair and sky-blue eyes, and a doll's face? Does she sit in
the pew under the reading-desk with three other dolls?" asked the foaming
dowager.

Lord Hartledon turned and stared at the speaker in wonder--what could be
so exciting her?

"She has soft brown hair and eyes, and a sweet gentle face; she is a
graceful, elegant, attractive girl," said he, curtly. "She sat alone
yesterday; for Arthur was in another part of the church, and Mrs. Ashton
was not there. Mrs. Ashton is not in good health, she tells me, and
cannot always come. The Rector's pew is the one with green curtains."

"Oh, _that_ vulgar-looking girl!" exclaimed Maude, her unjust words--and