She was richly dressed in a robe of black _moire_, and she wore a cap of point lace; her snowy hair was braided back from a broad white brow; her face was kindly, patient, cheerful; her manner, though somewhat stately, the same.

She evidently deeply loved the beautiful girl whose bright face was turned to hers.
"He said three in his note, did he not, Lady Peters ?" "Yes, my dear, but it is impossible for any one to be always strictly punctual; a hundred different things may have detained him." "But if he were really anxious to see me, he would not let anything detain him," she said.
"Your anxiety about him would be very flattering to him if he knew it," remarked the elder lady.
"Why should I not be anxious?
I have always loved him better than the whole world.

I have had reason to be anxious." "Philippa, my dear Philippa, I would not say such things if I were you, unless I had heard something really definite from himself." The beautiful young heiress laughed a bright, triumphant laugh.
"Something definite from himself! Why, you do not think it likely that he will long remain indifferent to me, even if he be so now--which I do not believe." "I have had so many disappointments in life that I am afraid of being sanguine," said Lady Peters; and again the young beauty laughed.
"It will seem so strange to see him again.

I remember his going away so well.

I was very young then--I am young now, but I feel years older.