If the new mistress of Beechgrove was an intimate friend of her Grace of Hazlewood's, as her words seemed to imply, then all must be well.
When Lady Arleigh had changed her traveling-dress, she went down-stairs.
Her young husband looked up in a rapture of delight.
"Oh, Madaline," he said, "how long have you been away from me?
It seems like a hundred hours, yet I do not suppose it has been one.

And how fair you look, my love! That cloudy white robe suits your golden hair and your sweet face, which has the same soft, sweet expression as when I saw you first; and those pretty shoulders of yours gleam like polished marble through the lace.

No dress could be more coquettish or prettier." The wide hanging sleeves were fastened back from the shoulders with buttons of pearl, leaving the white, rounded arms bare; a bracelet of pearls--Lady Peters' gift--was clasped round the graceful neck; the waves of golden hair, half loose, half carelessly fastened, were like a crown on the beautiful head.
"I am proud of my wife," he said.

"I know that no fairer Lady Arleigh has ever been at Beechgrove.

When we have dined, Madaline, I will take you to the picture-gallery, and introduce you to my ancestors and ancestresses." A _recherche_ little dinner had been hastily prepared, and was served in the grand dining-room.