Chapter VI

It was a beautiful morning toward the end of August; the balmy
sweetness of spring had given way to the glowing radiance of
summer. The golden corn waved in the fields, the hedge rows were
filled with wild flowers, the fruit hung ripe in the orchards.
Nature wore her brightest smile. The breakfast room at
Earlescourt was a pretty apartment; it opened on a flower garden,
and through the long French windows came the sweet perfume of
rose blossoms.

It was a pretty scene--the sunbeams fell upon the rich silver,
the delicate china, the vases of sweet flowers. Lord Earle sat
at the head of the table, busily engaged with his letters. Lady
Earle, in the daintiest of morning toilets, was smiling over the
pretty pink notes full of fashionable gossip. Her delicate,
patrician face looked clear and pure in the fresh morning light.
But there was no smile on Ronald's face. He was wondering, for
the hundredth time, how he was to tell his father what he had
done. He longed to be with his pretty Dora; and yet there was a
severe storm to encounter before he could bring her home.

"Ah," said Lady Earle, suddenly, "here is good news--Lady
Charteris is positively coming, Rupert. Sir Hugh will join her
in a few days. She will be here with Valentine tomorrow."

"I am very glad," said Lord Earle, looking up with pleasure and
surprise. "We must ask Lady Laurence to meet them."