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Lady Kynaston does not want her darling to marry yet, but when the time shall come for him to take unto himself a wife, she will raise no objection to pretty Helen Romer, should he bring her to her, as a daughter-in-law. As the old lady stoops over her, Helen's upturned wistful eyes say as plainly as words can say it "Is he coming to-night?"
"Now let me go," he said, putting her from him gently but coldly; "I want to speak to my mother." The two younger ladies wandered out into the garden, whilst Maurice sought his mother's room. "Mother, I have been to see John this morning. I am afraid he is really very ill," he said, gravely. Lady Kynaston shrugged her shoulders. "He is like a baby over that foolish affair," she said, impatiently.
And surely the man she had loved so fatally was not Maurice Kynaston at all, but only some creature of her own imagination, whom she had invested with things that the man himself had not lost because he had never possessed them. If this was so, then why, indeed, listen to the voice of her heart when everything urged her to stifle it?
And Vera listened, smiling, assenting, but only half attentive, with her eyes dreamily fixed upon the long procession of riders passing ever ceaselessly to and fro along the ride. Suddenly Denis Wilde felt a sudden movement of the chair beneath his hand. Vera had started violently. "Here comes Sir John Kynaston," the man before her was saying to his companion.
I saw him only last night, you know. I wonder why he went off in such a hurry when he saw me?" Vera was walking silently down the garden towards the house by his side. The thought in her mind was, "If that was Sir John Kynaston, who then is the photograph I found in the writing-table drawer?" "What did he say to you, Vera? How came you to be talking to him?" pursued her brother-in-law.
The various members of the First Eleven were pretty evenly distributed throughout the three Houses. Leicester's had Gethryn, Reece, and Marriott. Jephson's relied on Norris, Bruce, and Baker. The School House trump card was Pringle, with Lorimer and Baynes to do the bowling, and Hill of the First Eleven and Kynaston and Langdale of the second to back him up in the batting department.
"But it must needs make a difference to me," Vera had insisted. "You have written to her, of course." "Oh, yes; I wrote and told her I was engaged to you." "And she has not written?" "Yes, there was a message for you her love or something." Sir John evidently did not consider the subject of much importance. But Vera was hurt that Lady Kynaston had not written to her.
Suddenly Maurice Kynaston caught the hand that he held to his lips, and pressed half a dozen passionate kisses upon its outstretched palm. It was the work of half a minute, and in the next Maurice felt as if he should die of shame and remorse. "For God's sake, forgive me!" he cried, brokenly.
"It is very hideous," she said, almost apologetically, "especially the chancel; Mr. Daintree wants to have it restored, but I suppose that can't be done at all now." "Why can't it be done?" "Oh, because nothing can be done unless the chancel is pulled down; that belongs to the lay rector, and he has refused to restore it." "Sir John Kynaston is the lay rector." "Yes!"
"I cannot leave her out, as Lady Kynaston is coming. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what fools men are, to be sure!" But Beatrice was wicked enough to laugh again over her mother's discomfiture. I wonder did you ever count The value of one human fate, Or sum the infinite amount Of one heart's treasures, and the weight Of one heart's venture. A. Procter. It was quite true what Mr.
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