proser Thomas JL-Kempis ; but still it had been a different thing to
all these other loves. He lay in his grave there by the Atlantic
amongst the Devon roses, and she had had no memory of him for
many a year, and when he had been alive, she had thought the
church and the old women, and the saints, and the flannel, and the
choral services, and the matins- and vesper-nonsense, all so tiresome;
but still he had loved her. Of course they all adored her now, heaps
of them—but his love had been a different thing to theirs. And
somehow Lady Dolly felt a tinge and twinge of shame.
" Poor Vere," she murmured to herself tenderly; and so went
to see his daughter, who had been called after him by that absurd
old woman, the Duchess of Mull, with whom Lady Dolly in her
dual relation of niece and daughter-in-law had always waged a
fierce undying war: a war in which she had now got the worst
" May I come in, dear ? " she said at the bed chamber door.
She felt almost nervous. It was very absurd, but why would the
girl have her dead father's eyes ?
The girl opened the door and stood silent.
" A beautiful creature. They are quite right," thought Lady
Dolly, now that her brain was no longer filled with the dreadful
rumpled brown holland, and the smiling face of Princess Helene.
The girl was in a white wrapper like her own, only without any lace,
and any of the ribbons that adorned Lady Dolly at all points, as
tassels a Roman horse at Carnival. Lady Dolly was too lovely
herself, and also far too contented with herself to feel any jealousy;
but she looked at her daughter critically, as she would have looked
at a young untried actress on the boards of the Odeon. " Quite
another style to me, that is fortunate," she thought as she looked.
" Like Vere—very—quite extraordinarily like Vere—only hand¬
Then she kissed her daughter very prettily on both cheeks, and
with effusion embraced her, much as she embraced Princess Helene
or anybody else that she hated.
" You took me by surprise to-day, love," she said with a little
accent of apology, " and you know I do so detest scenes. Pray try
and remember that."
" Scenes ? " said Vere. " Please what are they ? "
" Scenes ?" said Lady Dolly, kissing her once more, and a little
puzzled as everybody is, who is suddenly asked to define a familiar
word. " Scenes ? Well, dear me, scenes are—scenes. Anything,
you know, that makes a fuss, that looks silly, that sets peopla
laughing; don't you understand ? Anything done before people,
you knov7 : it is vulgar."
" I think I understand," said Vere Herbert. She was a very
lovely girl, and despite her height still looked a child. Her small
head was perfectly poised on a slender neck, and her face, quite
colourless with a complexion like the leaf of a white rose, had perfect