CHAPTER XXIV.
MISS SILVER BREAKS THE NEWS.
The Grange, the jointure house of the Dowager Lady Kingsland, stood, like all such places, isolated and alone, at the furthest extremity of the village.

It was a dreary old building enough, weather-beaten and brown, with primly laid-out grounds, and row upon row of stiff poplars waving in the wintery wind.

A lonely, forlorn old place--a vivid contrast to the beauty and brightness of Kingsland Court; and from the first day of her entrance, Lady Kingsland, senior, hated her daughter-in-law with double hatred and rancor.
"For the pauper half-pay officer's bold-faced daughter we must drag out our lives in this horrible place!" she burst out, bitterly.

"While Harriet Hunsden reigns _en princesse_ amid the splendors of our ancestral home, we must vegetate in this rambling, dingy old barn.
I'll never forgive your brother, Mildred--I'll never forgive him as long as I live for marrying that creature!" "Dear mamma," the gentle voice of Milly pleaded, "you must not blame Everard.

He loves her, and she is as beautiful as an angel.