It is another laugh--happy, young, joyous.

Instinctively both he and Lady Rylton look towards the open window.

There below, still attended by Mr.Gower, and coming back from her charitable visit to the swans, is Tita, her little head upheld, her bright eyes smiling, her lips parted.

There is a sense of picturesque youth about the child that catches Rylton's attention, and holds it for the moment.
"There she is," says he at last, looking back over his shoulder at his mother.

"Is _that_ the wife you have meted out for me--that baby ?" "Be serious about it, Maurice; it is a serious latter, I assure you." "Fancy being serious with a baby! She's too young, my dear mother.
She couldn't know her duty to her neighbours yet, to say nothing of her duty to her husband." "You could teach her." "I doubt it.