Emily Fox-Seton's face flushed rosily, and her eyes opened and sparkled.

"O Lady Maria, you _are_ kind!" she said. "You know how I should enjoy
it. I have heard so much of Mallowe. Every one says it is so beautiful
and that there are no such gardens in England."

"They are good gardens. My husband was rather mad about roses. The best
train for you to take is the 2:30 from Paddington. That will bring you
to the Court just in time for tea on the lawn."

Emily could have kissed Lady Maria if they had been on the terms which
lead people to make demonstrations of affection. But she would have been
quite as likely to kiss the butler when he bent over her at dinner and
murmured in dignified confidence, "Port or sherry, miss?" Bibsworth
would have been no more astonished than Lady Maria would, and Bibsworth
certainly would have expired of disgust and horror.

She was so happy when she hailed the twopenny bus that when she got into
it her face was beaming with the delight which adds freshness and good
looks to any woman. To think that such good luck had come to her! To
think of leaving her hot little room behind her and going as a guest to
one of the most beautiful old houses in England! How delightful it would
be to live for a while quite naturally the life the fortunate people
lived year after year--to be a part of the beautiful order and
picturesqueness and dignity of it! To sleep in a lovely bedroom, to be
called in the morning by a perfect housemaid, to have one's early tea
served in a delicate cup, and to listen as one drank it to the birds
singing in the trees in the park! She had an ingenuous appreciation of
the simplest material joys, and the fact that she would wear her nicest
clothes every day, and dress for dinner every evening, was a delightful