At Shapters, GEORGE FARRANT'S house in Hertfordshire. Ten o'clock on a Sunday evening in summer. _Facing you at her piano by the window, from which she is protected by a little screen, sits_ MRS. FARRANT; _a woman of the interesting age, clear-eyed and all her face serene, except for a little pucker of the brows which shows a puzzled mind upon some important matters. To become almost an ideal hostess has been her achievement; and in her own home, as now, this grace is written upon every movement. Her eyes pass over the head of a girl, sitting in a low chair by a little table, with the shaded lamplight falling on her face. This is_ LUCY DAVENPORT; _twenty-three, undefeated in anything as yet…
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