“Then, it will depend on how you do it. Rosa Staines is a true mourner. Whatever you may think, I don't believe the idea of a second union has ever entered her head. But then she is very unselfish: and she likes you better than any one else, I dare say. I don't think your title or your money will weigh with her now. But, if you show her your happiness depends on it, she may, perhaps, cwy and sob at the very idea of it, and then, after all, say, 'Well, why not—if I can make the poor soul happy?'”
So, on this advice, Tadcaster went down to Gravesend, and Lady Cicely felt a certain self-satisfaction; for, her well-meant interference having lost Rosa one husband, she was pleased to think she had done something to give her another.
Lord Tadcaster came to Rosa Staines; he found her seated with her head upon her white hand, thinking sadly of the past.
At sight of him in deep mourning, she started, and said, “Oh!”
Then she said tenderly, “We are of one color now,” and gave him her hand.
He sat down beside her, not knowing how to begin.
“I am not Tadcaster now. I am Earl of Miltshire.”
“Ah, yes; I forgot,” said she indifferently.
“This is my first visit to any one in that character.”
“Thank you.”