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"

Garth sat down, lay back in his chair, with his arms behind his
sleek dark head, and looked at her with his soft shining eyes, just
as he had looked at the duchess.
"How cross you are, old chap," he said, gently. "What is the
matter?"
Jane laughed and held out her hand. "Oh, you dear boy! I think you
have the sweetest temper in the world. I won't be cross any more.
The truth is, I hate the duchess's concerts, and I don't like being
the duchess's 'surprise-packet.'"
"I see," said Garth, sympathetically. "But, that being so, why did
you offer?"
"Ah, I had to," said Jane. "Poor old dear! She so rarely asks me
anything, and her eyes besought. Don't you know how one longs to
have something to do for some one who belongs to one? I would black
her boots if she wished it. But it is so hard to stay here, week
after week, and be kept at arm's length. This one thing she asked of
me, and her proud old eyes pleaded. Could I refuse?"
Garth was all sympathy. "No, dear," he said thoughtfully; "of course
you couldn't.


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