_"There, go!"_ she says, suddenly pushing him from her.
"But your advice ?" asks he, holding her.
"Pouf! as if that was worth anything." She looks up at him from under her lowered lids.

"Well, take it.

My advice to you is to come to the rose-garden as soon as possible, and see the roses before they fade out of all recognition! _I_ am going there now.

You know how I love that rose-garden; I almost live there nowadays." "I wish I could live there too," says Rylton, laughing.
He lifts her hand again and presses it fondly to his lips.
Something, however, in his air, though it had breathed devotion, troubles Mrs.Bethune; she frowns as he leaves her, and, turning into a side-path the leads to the rose-garden, gives herself up a prey to thought.
* * * * * Rylton, with a shrug, goes toward the room where Marian had told him his mother was awaiting him.

He could very readily (as Lady Rylton had not formally requested his presence) have stayed away, but long experience has driven into him the knowledge that when his mother wants anything, all the delays and subterfuges and evasions in the world will not prevent her having it.