"Our son, Lord Mordaunt Muddlenut, is young, handsome, all that a girl could desire.

After months of wandering he returns to us this morning.

It is our dearest wish to see him married and established.

We offer you his hand." "Indeed," replied Winnifred, while her tears fell even more freely, "I seem to requite but ill the kindness that you show.

Alas, my heart is no longer in my keeping." "Where is it ?" cried the Marchioness.
"It is another's.