"Because you are not used to it," said Lady Lilian. "Ah! you would soon get tired of it, believe me."
"Never," breathed Stella, looking down; as she did so she saw the maidenhair, and held it up.
"Lord Leycester sent these to you," she said.
A loving light came into Lady Lilian's eyes as she took the green, fragrant sprays.
"Leycester?" she said, touching her cheek with them. "That is like him—he is too good to me."
Stella looked across the room at a picture of the Madonna rising from the earth, with upturned, glorious eyes.
"Is he?" she murmured.
"Oh, yes, yes, there never was a brother like him in all the wide world," said Lady Lilian, in a rapt voice. "I cannot tell you how good he is to me; he is always thinking of me—he who has so much to think of. I fancy sometimes that people are apt to deem him selfish and—and—thoughtless, but they do not know——"
"No," said Stella again. The voice sounded like music in her ears—she could have listened forever while it sung his song; and yet that word suddenly rang out in discord, and she smiled. "He seems very kind," she said—"he is very kind to me."