poplin fitted like a glove the pretty curves of Lady Mary's slender
figure, but it lacked distinction, and appropriateness, to John's
fastidious eye. Then he reproached himself vehemently for allowing his
thoughts to dwell on such trifles at such a moment.

"Will you forgive me for going away the very day you come?" said Lady
Mary.

How quickly, how surprisingly, she recovered her spirits! She had
looked so weary and sad as she came down the stairs an hour ago. Now
she was almost gay. A feverish and unnatural gaiety, no doubt; but
those flushed cheeks, and glittering blue eyes--how they restored the
youthful loveliness of the face he had once thought the most beautiful
he ever saw!

"I am going to see the last of my boy. You'll understand, won't you?
You were an only son too. And your mother would have gone to the ends
of the earth to look upon your face once more, wouldn't she? Mothers
are made like that."

"Some mothers," said John; and he turned away his head.

"Not yours? I'm sorry," said Lady Mary, simply.

"Oh, well--you know, she was a good deal--in the world," he said,
repenting himself.

"I use to wish so much to live in the world too," said Lady
Mary, dreamily; "but ever since I was fifteen I've lived in this
out-of-the-way place."