The cornflowers blue, the poppies too, Waved in the wheat so proudly! From a cliff near-by the joyous cry Of a falcon echoed loudly.

Lady Kirkbank, with her dear old head thrown back upon the cushion of her luxurious chair, and her dear little cornflower hat just a thought on one side, was sleeping the sleep of the just, and unconsciously revealing the little golden arrangements which gave variety to her front teeth.