As I can not make it quite Paradise, I will do what I can." "Any place is my Paradise so that you are there, Everard!" "Landscape gardeners and upholsterers shall wave their magic wands and work their nineteenth century miracles," he said, presently, reverting to his project.

"My dear girl's future home shall be a very bower of delights.

And, besides, I want to see my mother.

She feels herself a little slighted, I am afraid, after this winter's absence." "Ah, your mother!" with a little sigh.

"Will she ever like me, do yon think, Everard?
Her letter was so cold, so formal, so chilling!" For this high-stepping young lady who had ridden at the fox-hunt with reckless daring, who was so regally uplifted and imperious, had grown very humble in her new love.
Harrie had written to my lady an humble, girlish, appealing little letter, and had received the coldest of polite replies with the "bloody hand" and the Kingsland crest emblazoned proudly, and the motto of the house in good old Norman French, "Strike once, and strike well." Since then there had been no correspondence.