"Your father's son, Sir Everard, will ever be a most welcome guest." "Yes," said Harrie, coquettishly; "come and inquire how my health is after dancing all night.

Etiquette demands that much, and I'm a great stickler for etiquette." "Sir Everard would never have discovered it, I am certain, my dear, if you had not told him." "A thousand thanks! I shall only be too delighted to avail myself of both invitations." Sir Everard went home to Kingsland Court as he never had gone home before.

The whole world was _couleur de rose_--the bleak November morning and the desolate high-road--sweeter, brighter than the Elysian Fields.
How beautiful she was! how the starry eyes had flashed! how the rosy lips had smiled! Half the men at the ball were in love with her, he knew; and she--she had danced twice with him, all night, for once with any one else.
It was a very silent drive.

Lady Kingsland sat back among her wraps in displeased silence; Mildred never talked much, and the young baronet was lost in blissful ecstasy a great deal too deep for words.

He could not even see his mother was angry--he never gave one poor thought to Lady Louise.