"Ronald," said his mother, as they parted that evening, "I know
that, as a rule, young men of your age do not care for the
society of elderly ladies; I must ask you to make an exception in
favor of Lady Charteris. They showed me great kindness at
Greenoke, and you must help me to return it. I shall consider
every attention shown to the lady and her daughter as shown to
myself."

Ronald smiled at his mother's words, and told her he would never
fail in her service.

"If he sees much of Valentine," thought his mother, "he can not
help loving her. Then all will be well."

Ronald was not in the house when the guests arrived; they came
rather before the appointed time. His mother and Lady Charteris
had gone to the library together, leaving Valentine in the
drawing room alone. Ronald found her there. Opening the door,
he saw the sleeve of a white dress; believing Lady Earle was
there, he went carelessly into the room, then started in
astonishment at the vision before him. Once in a century,
perhaps, one sees a woman like Valentine Charteris; of the purest
and loveliest Greek type, a calm, grand, magnificent blonde, with
clear, straight brows, fair hair that shone like satin and lay in
thick folds around her queenly head--tall and stately, with a
finished ease and grace of manner that could only result from
long and careful training. She rose when Ronald entered the
room, and her beautiful eyes were lifted calmly to his face.
Suddenly a rush of color dyed the white brow. Valentine