Her wandering life, I presume, accounts for it; but she is altogether unlike any girl I ever know.

I am certain," with a little malicious glance, "she will be your style, Sir Everard." "And as I don't in the least know what my style is, perhaps you may be right." Lady Louise bit her lip--it was a rebuff, she fancied, for her detraction.

And then Lady Carteret gave that mysterious signal, and the ladies rose and swept away in billows of silk to the drawing-room, and the gentlemen had the talk to themselves "across the walnuts and the wine." To one gentleman present the interim before rejoining the ladies was unmitigatedly dull, even though the talk ran on his favorite topics---horse-flesh and hunting.

He was in love, he thought complacently, and Lady Louise's eyes had sparkled to-day and her smiles had flashed their bewildering brightness upon him more radiantly than ever before.
"How pleased my mother will be!" Sir Everard thought.

"I will ask Lady Louise this very night.