"Hullo, Claude, going for a walk?" "Yes, papa." "Alone?" "No: Mary is going with me." "Humph! If you were as giddy as Mary, I'd-I'd-" "What, papa?" "Don't know; something bad. But, Claude, my girl." "Yes, dear?" "Why the dickens don't you dress better? Look at you!" The girl admonished turned merrily round, and stood facing an old bevelled-glass cabinet in the solid-looking, well-furnished library, and saw her reflection-one which for some reason made her colour slightly; perhaps with pleasure at seeing her handsome oval face with soft, deep brown hair, and large dark, well-shaded eyes-a face that needed no more display to set it off than the plain green cloth well-fitting dress, held at the throat by a dead gold brooch of Roman make.