Ronald sighed; his parents busily discussed the hospitalities and
pleasures to be offered their guests. A grand dinner party was
planned, and a ball, to which half the country side were to be
invited.

"Valentine loves gayety," said Lady Earle, "and we must give her
plenty of it."

"I shall have all this to go through," sighed Ronald--"grand
parties, dinners, and balls, while my heart longs to be with my
darling; and in the midst of it all, how shall I find time to
talk to my father? I will begin this very day."

When dinner was over, Ronald proposed to Lord Earle that they
should go out on the terrace and smoke a cigar there. Then took
place the conversation with which our story opens, when the
master of Earlescourt declared his final resolve.

Ronald was more disturbed than he cared to own even to himself.
Once the words hovered upon his lips that he had married Dora.
Had Lord Earl been angry or contemptuous, he would have uttered
them; but in the presence of his father's calm, dignified wisdom,
he was abashed and uncertain. For the first time he felt the
truth of all his father said. Not that he loved Dora less, or
repented of the rash private marriage, but Lord Earle's appeal to
his sense of the "fitness of things" touched him.

There was little time for reflection. Lady Charteris and her
daughter were coming on the morrow. Again Lady Earle entered the
field as a diplomatist, and came off victorious.