LADY LUNDIE pointed significantly to the door, and addressedherself to Sir Patrick's private ear.

"Observe!" she said. "Miss Silvester has just got rid ofsomebody."

Sir Patrick deliberately looked in the wrong direction, and (inthe politest possible manner) observed--nothing.

Lady Lundie advanced into the summer-house. Suspicious hatred ofthe governess was written legibly in every line of her face.Suspicious distrust of the governess's illness spoke plainly inevery tone of her voice.

"May I inquire, Miss Silvester, if your sufferings are relieved?"

"I am no better, Lady Lundie."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said I was no better."

"You appear to be able to stand up. When _I_ am ill, I am not sofortunate. I am obliged to lie down."'

"I will follow your example, Lady Lundie. If you will be so goodas to excuse me, I will leave you, and lie down in my own room."

She could say no more. The interview with Geoffrey had worn herout; there was no spirit left in her to resist the petty maliceof the woman, after bearing, as she had borne it, the brutishindifference of the man. In another moment the hystericalsuffering which she was keeping down would have forced its wayoutward in tears. Without waiting to know whether she was excusedor not, without stopping to hear a word more, she left thesummer-house.

Lady Lundie's magnificent black eyes opened to their utmostwidth, and blazed with their most dazzling brightness. Sheappealed to Sir Patrick, poised easily on his ivory cane, andlooking out at the lawn-party, the picture of venerableinnocence.

"After what I have already told you, Sir Patrick, of MissSilvester's conduct, may I ask whether you consider _that_proceeding at all extraordinary?"

The old gentleman touched the spring in the knob of his cane, andanswered, in the courtly manner of the old school:

"I consider no proceeding extraordinary Lady Lundie, whichemanates from your enchanting sex."

He bowed, and took his pinch. With a little jaunty flourish ofthe hand, he dusted the stray grains of snuff off his finger andthumb, and looked back again at the lawn-party, and became moreabsorbed in the diversions of his young friends than ever.

Lady Lundie stood her ground, plainly determined to force aserious expression of opinion from her brother-in-law. Before shecould speak again, Arnold and Blanche appeared together at thebottom of the steps. "And when does the dancing begin?" inquiredSir Patrick, advancing to meet them, and looking as if he feltthe deepest interest in a speedy settlement of the question.

"The very thing I was going to ask mamma," returned Blanche. "Isshe in there with Anne? Is Anne better?"

Lady Lundie forthwith appeared, and took the answer to thatinquiry on herself.

"Miss Silvester has retired to her room. Miss Silvester persistsin being ill. Have you noticed, Sir Patrick, that these half-bredsort of people are almost invariably rude when they are ill?"

Blanche's bright face flushed up. "If you think Anne a half-bredperson, Lady Lundie, you stand alone in your opinion. My uncledoesn't agree with you, I'm sure."

Sir Patrick's interest in the first quadrille became almostpainful to see. "_Do_ tell me, my dear, when _is_ the dancinggoing to begin?"

"The sooner the better," interposed Lady Lundie; "before Blanchepicks another quarrel with me on the subject of Miss Silvester."

Blanche looked at her uncle. "Begin! begin! Don't lose time!"cried the ardent Sir Patrick, pointing toward the house with hiscane. "Certainly, uncle! Any thing that _you_ wish!" With thatparting shot at her step-mother, Blanche withdrew. Arnold, whohad thus far waited in silence at the foot of the steps, lookedappealingly at Sir Patrick. The train which was to take him tohis newly inherited property would start in less than an hour;and he had not presented himself to Blanche's guardian in thecharacter of Blanche's suitor yet! Sir Patrick's indifference toall domestic claims on him--claims of persons who loved, andclaims of persons who hated, it didn't matter which--remainedperfectly unassailable. There he stood, poised on his cane,humming an old Scotch air. And there was Lady Lundie, resolutenot to leave him till he had seen the governess with _her_ eyesand judged the governess with _her_ mind. She returned to thecharge--in spite of Sir Patrick, humming at the top of the steps,and of Arnold, waiting at the bottom. (Her enemies said, "Nowonder poor Sir Thomas died in a few months after his marriage!"And, oh dear me, our enemies _are_ sometimes right!)

"I must once more remind you, Sir Patrick, that I have seriousreason to doubt whether Miss Silvester is a fit companion forBlanche. My governess has something on her mind. She has fits ofcrying in private. She is up and walking about her room when sheought to be asleep. She posts her own letters--_and,_ she haslately been excessively insolent to Me. There is something wrong.I must take some steps in the matter--and it is only proper thatI should do so with your sanction, as head of the family."

"Consider me as abdicating my position, Lady Lundie, in yourfavor."

"Sir Patrick, I beg you to observe that I am speaking seriously,and that I expect a serious reply."

"My good lady, ask me for any thing else and it is at yourservice. I have not made a serious reply since I gave up practiceat the Scottish Bar. At my age," added Sir Patrick, cunninglydrifting into generalities, "nothing is serious--exceptIndigestion. I say, with the philosopher, 'Life is a comedy tothose who think, and tragedy to those who feel.' " He took hissister-in-law's hand, and kissed it. "Dear Lady Lundie, whyfeel?"

Lady Lundie, who had never "felt" in her life, appearedperversely determined to feel, on this occasion. She wasoffended--and she showed it plainly.

"When you are next called on, Sir Patrick, to judge of MissSilvester's conduct," she said, "unless I am entirely mistaken,you will find yourself _compelled_ to consider it as somethingbeyond a joke." With those words, she walked out of thesummer-house--and so forwarded Arnold's interests by leavingBlanche's guardian alone at last.

It was an excellent opportunity. The guests were safe in thehouse--there was no interruption to be feared, Arnold showedhimself. Sir Patrick (perfectly undisturbed by Lady Lundie'sparting speech) sat down in the summer-house, without noticinghis young friend, and asked himself a question founded onprofound observation of the female sex. "Were there ever twowomen yet with a quarrel between them," thought the oldgentleman, "who didn't want to drag a man into it? Let them drag_me_ in, if they can!"

Arnold advanced a step, and modestly announced himself. "I hope Iam not in the way, Sir Patrick?"

"In the way? of course not! Bless my soul, how serious the boylooks! Are _you_ going to appeal to me as the head of the familynext?"

It was exactly what Arnold was about to do. But it was plain thatif he admitted it just then Sir Patrick (for some unintelligiblereason) would decline to listen to him. He answered cautiously,"I asked leave to consult you in private, Sir; and you kindlysaid you would give me the opportunity before I left Windygates?"

"Ay! ay! to be sure. I remember. We were both engaged in theserious business of croquet at the time--and it was doubtfulwhich of us did that business most clumsily. Well, here is theopportunity; and here am I, with all my worldly experience, atyour service. I have only one caution to give you. Don't appealto me as 'the head of the family.' My resignation is in LadyLundie's hands."

He was, as usual, half in jest, half in earnest. The wry twist ofhumor showed itself at the corners of his lips. Arnold was at aloss how to approach Sir Patrick on the subject of his niecewithout reminding him of his domestic responsibilities on the onehand, and without setting himself up as a target for the shaftsof Sir Patrick's wit on the other. In this difficulty, hecommitted a mistake at the outset. He hesitated.

"Don't hurry yourself," said Sir Patrick. "Collect your ideas. Ican wait! I can wait!"

Arnold collected his ideas--and committed a second mistake. Hedetermined on feeling his way cautiously at first. Under thecircumstances (and with such a man as he had now to deal with),it was perhaps the rashest resolution at which he could possiblyhave arrived--it was the mouse attempting to outmanoeuvre the cat

"You have been very kind, Sir, in offering me the benefit of yourexperience," he began. "I want a word of advice."

"Suppose you take it sitting?" suggested Sir Patrick. "Get achair." His sharp eyes followed Arnold with an expression ofmalicious enjoyment. "Wants my advice?" he thought. "The younghumbug wants nothing of the sort--he wants my niece."

Arnold sat down under Sir Patrick's eye, with a well-foundedsuspicion that he was destined to suffer, before he got up again,under Sir Patrick's tongue.

"I am only a young man," he went on, moving uneasily in hischair, "and I am beginning a new life--"

"Any thing wrong with the chair?" asked Sir Patrick. "Begin yournew life comfortably, and get another."

"There's nothing wrong with the chair, Sir. Would you--"

"Would I keep the chair, in that case? Certainly."

"I mean, would you advise me--"

"My good fellow, I'm waiting to advise you. (I'm sure there'ssomething wrong with that chair. Why be obstinate about it? Whynot get another?)"

"Please don't notice the chair, Sir Patrick--you put me out. Iwant--in short--perhaps it's a curious question--"

"I can't say till I have heard it," remarked Sir Patrick."However, we will admit it, for form's sake, if you like. Sayit's a curious question. Or let us express it more strongly, ifthat will help you. Say it's the most extraordinary question thatever was put, since the beginning of the world, from one humanbeing to another."

"It's this!" Arnold burst out, desperately. "I want to bemarried!"

"That isn't a question," objected Sir Patrick. "It's anassertion. You say, I want to be married. And I say, Just so! Andthere's an end of it."

Arnold's head began to whirl. "Would you advise me to getmarried, Sir?" he said, piteously. "That's what I meant."

"Oh! That's the object of the present interview, is it? Would Iadvise you to marry, eh?"

(Having caught the mouse by this time, the cat lifted his paw andlet the luckless little creature breathe again. Sir Patrick'smanner suddenly freed itself from any slight signs of impatiencewhich it might have hitherto shown, and became as pleasantly easyand confidential as a manner could be. He touched the knob of hiscane, and helped himself, with infinite zest and enjoyment, to apinch of snuff.)

"Would I advise you to marry?" repeated Sir Patrick. "Two coursesare open to us, Mr. Arnold, in treating that question. We may putit briefly, or we may put it at great length. I am for putting itbriefly. What do you say?"

"What you say, Sir Patrick."

"Very good. May I begin by making an inquiry relating to yourpast life?"

"Certainly!"

"Very good again. When you were in the merchant service, did youever have any experience in buying provisions ashore?"

Arnold stared. If any relation existed between that question andthe subject in hand it was an impenetrable relation to _him_. Heanswered, in unconcealed bewilderment, "Plenty of experience,Sir."

"I'm coming to the point," pursued Sir Patrick. "Don't beastonished. I'm coming to the point. What did you think of yourmoist sugar when you bought it at the grocer's?"

"Think?" repeated Arnold. "Why, I thought it was moist sugar, tobe sure!"

"Marry, by all means!" cried Sir Patrick. "You are one of the fewmen who can try that experiment with a fair chance of success."

The suddenness of the answer fairly took away Arnold's breath.There was something perfectly electric in the brevity of hisvenerable friend. He stared harder than ever.

"Don't you understand me?" asked Sir Patrick.

"I don't understand what the moist sugar has got to do with it,Sir."

"You don't see that?"

"Not a bit!"

"Then I'll show you," said Sir Patrick, crossing his legs, andsetting in comfortably for a good talk "You go to the tea-shop,and get your moist sugar. You take it on the understanding thatit is moist sugar. But it isn't any thing of the sort. It's acompound of adulterations made up to look like sugar. You shutyour eyes to that awkward fact, and swallow your adulterated messin various articles of food; and you and your sugar get ontogether in that way as well as you can. Do you follow me, sofar?"

Yes. Arnold (quite in the dark) followed, so far.

"Very good," pursued Sir Patrick. "You go to the marriage-shop,and get a wife. You take her on the understanding--let ussay--that she has lovely yellow hair, that she has an exquisitecomplexion, that her figure is the perfection of plumpness, andthat she is just tall enough to carry the plumpness off. Youbring her home, and you discover that it's the old story of thesugar over again. Your wife is an adulterated article. Her lovelyyellow hair is--dye. Her exquisite skin is--pearl powder. Herplumpness is--padding. And three inches of her height are--in theboot-maker's heels. Shut your eyes, and swallow your adulteratedwife as you swallow your adulterated sugar--and, I tell youagain, you are one of the few men who can try the marriageexperiment with a fair chance of success."

With that he uncrossed his legs again, and looked hard at Arnold.Arnold read the lesson, at last, in the right way. He gave up thehopeless attempt to circumvent Sir Patrick, and--come what mightof it--dashed at a direct allusion to Sir Patrick's niece.

"That may be all very true, Sir, of some young ladies," he said."There is one I know of, who is nearly related to you, and whodoesn't deserve what you have said of the rest of them."

This was coming to the point. Sir Patrick showed his approval ofArnold's frankness by coming to the point himself, as readily ashis own whimsical humor would let him.

"Is this female phenomenon my niece?" he inquired.

"Yes, Sir Patrick."

"May I ask how you know that my niece is not an adulteratedarticle, like the rest of them?"

Arnold's indignation loosened the last restraints that tiedArnold's tongue. He exploded in the three words which mean threevolumes in every circulating library in the kingdom.

"I love her."

Sir Patrick sat back in his chair, and stretched out his legsluxuriously.

"That's the most convincing answer I ever heard in my life," hesaid.

"I'm in earnest!" cried Arnold, reckless by this time of everyconsideration but one. "Put me to the test, Sir! put me to thetest!"

"Oh, very well. The test is easily put." He looked at Arnold,with the irrepressible humor twinkling merrily in his eyes, andtwitching sharply at the corners of his lips. "My niece has abeautiful complexion. Do you believe in her complexion?"

"There's a beautiful sky above our heads," returned Arnold. "Ibelieve in the sky."

"Do you?" retorted Sir Patrick. "You were evidently never caughtin a shower. My niece has an immense quantity of hair. Are youconvinced that it all grows on her head?"

"I defy any other woman's head to produce the like of it!"

"My dear Arnold, you greatly underrate the existing resources ofthe trade in hair! Look into the shop-windows. Whenyou next go to London pray look into the show-windows. In themean time, what do you think of my niece's figure?"

"Oh, come! there can't be any doubt about _that!_ Any man, witheyes in his head, can see it's the loveliest figure in theworld."

Sir Patrick laughed softly, and crossed his legs again.

"My good fellow, of course it is! The loveliest figure in theworld is the commonest thing in the world. At a rough guess,there are forty ladies at this lawn-party. Every one of thempossesses a beautiful figure. It varies in price; and when it'sparticularly seductive you may swear it comes from Paris. Why,how you stare! When I asked you what you thought of my niece'sfigure, I meant--how much of it comes from Nature, and how muchof it comes from the Shop? I don't know, mind! Do you?"

"I'll take my oath to every inch of it!"

"Shop?"

"Nature!"

Sir Patrick rose to his feet; his satirical humor was silenced atlast.

"If ever I have a son," he thought to himself, "that son shall goto sea!" He took Arnold's arm, as a preliminary to putting an endto Arnold's suspense. "If I _ can_ be serious about any thing,"he resumed, "it's time to be serious with you. I am convinced ofthe sincerity of your attachment. All I know of you is in yourfavor, and your birth and position are beyond dispute. If youhave Blanche's consent, you have mine." Arnold attempted toexpress his gratitude. Sir Patrick, declining to hear him, wenton. "And remember this, in the future. When you next want anything that I can give you, ask for it plainly. Don't attempt tomystify _me_ on the next occasion, and I will promise, on myside, not to mystify _you._ There, that's understood. Now aboutthis journey of yours to see your estate. Property has itsduties, Master Arnold, as well as its rights. The time is fastcoming when its rights will be disputed, if its duties are notperformed. I have got a new interest in you, and I mean to seethat you do your duty. It's settled you are to leave Windygatesto-day. Is it arranged how you are to go?"

"Yes, Sir Patrick. Lady Lundie has kindly ordered the gig to takeme to the station, in time for the next train."

"When are you to be ready?"

Arnold looked at his watch. "In a quarter of an hour."

"Very good. Mind you _are_ ready. Stop a minute! you will haveplenty of time to speak to Blanche when I have done with you. Youdon't appear to me to be sufficiently anxious about seeing yourown property."

"I am not very anxious to leave Blanche, Sir--that's the truth ofit."

"Never mind Blanche. Blanche is not business. They both beginwith a B--and that's the only connection between them. I hear youhave got one of the finest houses in this part of Scotland. Howlong are you going to stay in Scotland? How long are you going tostay in it?"

"I have arranged (as I have already told you, Sir) to return toWindygates the day after to-morrow."

"What! Here is a man with a palace waiting to receive him--and heis only going to stop one clear day in it!"

"I am not going to stop in it at all, Sir Patrick--I am going tostay with the steward. I'm only wanted to be present to-morrow ata dinner to my tenants--and, when that's over, there's nothing inthe world to prevent my coming back here. The steward himselftold me so in his last letter."

"Oh, if the steward told you so, of course there is nothing moreto be said!"

"Don't object to my coming back! pray don't, Sir Patrick! I'llpromise to live in my new house when I have got Blanche to livein it with me. If you won't mind, I'll go and tell her at oncethat it all belongs to her as well as to me."

"Gently! gently! you talk as if you were married to her already!"

"It's as good as done, Sir! Where's the difficulty in the waynow?"

As he asked the question the shadow of some third person,advancing from the side of the summer-house, was thrown forwardon the open sunlit space at the top of the steps. In a momentmore the shadow was followed by the substance--in the shape of agroom in his riding livery. The man was plainly a stranger to theplace. He started, and touched his hat, when he saw the twogentlemen in the summer-house.

"What do you want?" asked Sir Patrick

"I beg your pardon, Sir; I was sent by my master--"

"Who is your master?"

"The Honorable Mr. Delamayn, Sir."

"Do you mean Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn?" asked Arnold.

"No, Sir. Mr. Geoffrey's brother--Mr. Julius. I have ridden overfrom the house, Sir, with a message from my master to Mr.Geoffrey."

"Can't you find him?"

"They told me I should find him hereabouts, Sir. But I'm astranger, and don't rightly know where to look." He stopped, andtook a card out of his pocket. "My master said it was veryimportant I should deliver this immediately. Would you be pleasedto tell me, gentlemen, if you happen to know where Mr. Geoffreyis?"

Arnold turned to Sir Patrick. "I haven't seen him. Have you?"

"I have smelt him," answered Sir Patrick, "ever since I have beenin the summer-house. There is a detestable taint of tobacco inthe air--suggestive (disagreeably suggestive to _my_ mind) ofyour friend, Mr. Delamayn."

Arnold laughed, and stepped outside the summer-house.

"If you are right, Sir Patrick, we will find him at once." Helooked around, and shouted, "Geoffrey!"

A voice from the rose-garden shouted back, "Hullo!"

"You're wanted. Come here!"

Geoffrey appeared, sauntering doggedly, with his pipe in hismouth, and his hands in his pockets.

"Who wants me?"

"A groom--from your brother."

That answer appeared to electrify the lounging and lazy athlete.Geoffrey hurried, with eager steps, to the summer-house. Headdressed the groom before the man had time to speak With horrorand dismay in his face, he exclaimed:

"By Jupiter! Ratcatcher has relapsed!"

Sir Patrick and Arnold looked at each other in blank amazement.

"The best horse in my brother's stables!" cried Geoffrey,explaining, and appealing to them, in a breath. "I left writtendirections with the coachman, I measured out his physic for threedays; I bled him," said Geoffrey, in a voice broken byemotion--"I bled him myself, last night."

"I beg your pardon, Sir--" began the groom.

"What's the use of begging my pardon? You're a pack of infernalfools! Where's your horse? I'll ride back, and break every bonein the coachman's skin! Where's your horse?"

"If you please, Sir, it isn't Ratcatcher. Ratcatcher's allright."

"Ratcatcher's all right? Then what the devil is it?"

"It's a message, Sir."

"About what?"

"About my lord."

"Oh! About my father?" He took out his handkerchief, and passedit over his forehead, with a deep gasp of relief. "I thought itwas Ratcatcher," he said, looking at Arnold, with a smile. He puthis pipe into his mouth, and rekindled the dying ashes of thetobacco. "Well?" he went on, when the pipe was in working order,and his voice was composed again: "What's up with my father?"

"A telegram from London, Sir. Bad news of my lord."

The man produced his master's card.

Geoffrey read on it (written in his brother's handwriting) thesewords:

"I have only a moment to scribble a line on my card. Our fatheris dangerously ill--his lawyer has been sent for. Come with me toLondon by the first train. Meet at the junction."

Without a word to any one of the three persons present, allsilently looking at him, Geoffrey consulted his watch. Anne hadtold him to wait half an hour, and to assume that she had gone ifhe failed to hear from her in that time. The interval hadpassed--and no communication of any sort had reached him. Theflight from the house had been safely accomplished. AnneSilvester was, at that moment, on her way to the mountain inn.