middle-aged lady, who had observed that one could hardly recognise Lady Trevor's high colour for paint, was very severely dropped upon.

'I am afraid, my dear madam,' said her hostess, with a pitying smile, 'that your eyes are not quite so young as they used to be.' If the county expected that the mistress of Mirbridge Court would be dazzled by its splendour, or shrink with shyness from its polite advances, the county was mistaken. She was perfectly urbane and courteous, but also obviously indifferent to what might be thought of her. To those who offered their neighbourly congratulations she was all smiles and gentleness; but if any lady's curiosity manifested itself in some too personal question, she put up her pince-nez and regarded the inquirer as an entomologist regards a beetle of the order communis, and quite unworthy to be placed in his collection.

Sir Richard and his sons were still more at ease in the social Zion. The Baronet, indeed, did his best not to look as indifferent as he felt to the felicitations of his old acquaintances; but that mauvais quart d'heure before dinner-which tries us all -was to him well-nigh intolerable. He had been brought to Catesby contrary to his inclinations, but he would not have come at all if he could have foreseen the fuss that was made about him. References to his Mirbridge life of old were so associated with the cause of his leaving the Court that they were all hateful to him alike, and these people talked of little else. As an alternative they expressed their satisfaction at having him for a companion on the Bench-for on his return home he had been made a magistrate—and asked his opinion (with the view of influencing it) on half-a-dozen local matters about which he had neither interest nor knowledge. He submitted to it all, of course, for there was no help for it, but with obvious resentment, and looked, as Mrs. Westrop said, 'like a martyr, who wasn't a Christian, being bored to death.'

Hugh Trevor's sweet temper had been already put out by the receipt of the information that he was to take Miss Joddrell down to dinner, and he made no effort to conceal the fact. A few of the elder matrons, who had private hopes of him for their daughters, maintained that his air of brusquerie and insouciance was caused by extreme shyness, but the men pronounced him 'devilish sulky,' and in answer to an inquiry as to what she thought of him, addressed later by Miss Mumchance, her chaperone was heard to observe with unhesitating decision, 'My dear, a cub.' He would have attached himself to the Rectory party, as though there had been nobody else in the room, had not Clara, in an imperious whisper ('You are not my chatelaine yet, that you should hang about me in this fashion'), forbidden him to do so. She was not one of those young ladies

who for a few hours of triumph are prepared to set their sex at defiance for the rest of their natural lives. In revenge he would have sought the heiress, but he found his brother, who had been deputed to take her down to dinner, in possession, and already on excellent terms with her. Irritated at this, he whispered to Miss Joddrell, as she took his arm, that Miss Mumchance must be thirty at the very least. To which that young lady, who was very nervous, and had not even those moderate wits about her to which she could usually lay claim, replied, 'Oh, she's much more than that; indeed, I'm told she's three hundred thousand.

CHAPTER XXV.

A COUNTRY DINNER-PARTY.

WHATEVER is to be urged against the dulness of rural life, a great dinner-party in the country in June is certainly less depressing than a similar function during the same month in London. The knowledge that there is a garden outside into which, to the adventurous, escape will be presently possible, is a supporting thought. Through the open window, even if the shutters are closed, there come in pleasant scents, and hints of the green coolness out of doors. On the other side of them there are at least no congregation of street-idlers sucking the spikes of the area railings, and hoping to catch a glimpse of what they fallaciously believe to be a scene of unmitigated enjoyment. There is less formality, because the company are all more or less known to one another, and the sense of rareness adds zest to the feast.

Mr. Lascelles, the Chairman of the Quarter Sessions, had been kindly chosen by the hostess to take Clara down to dinner; he was a bachelor, and had been so for fifty years, in spite of the most resolute attacks from two generations of high-born virgins. Since Clara was so very beautiful, it was possible that she might effect his capture, and, at all events, nobody could accuse her hostess of not having given the girl her chance,' but the chief object, of course, had been to place her where she could do as little mischief as possible. Neither Hugh nor any of the male Joddrells was in her vicinity. Opposite, however, sat Lucy with one of them, who had received a maternal caution not to make a fool of himself with his fair neighbour; it was doubly superfluous, first, because (like the poet) he was born, not made' a fool, and, secondly, because he never took his eyes off her sister from soup till ice-pudding time.

The

Clara Thorne was a woman, indeed, to turn the heads not only of all sorts and conditions of men, but of men of all ages. glamour she cast over this fledgling Joddrell fell, to some

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extent, even on the stout Chairman of the Quarter Sessions: he kept repeating to himself, 'Steady, Lascelles, steady; after all she is only a monstrous fine gal,' as a charm against her fascinations, and afterwards confessed that he had never been so nearly taken in and done for in all his life. But he little knew the imminent peril in which he had really stood. If he had proposed to her, and could have been got to put it in writing at the back of his menu card, it is my belief that the course of this veracious history would have been changed. Fortunately, or unfortunately, for himself, as folks may think, he was spell-bound; he felt if he did not hold his tongue that he should commit himself, and, therefore, he remained dumb.

Clara's other neighbour was a Master of Hounds, and rattled on in full cry; but he was a married man and risked nothing. Once or twice she cast a furtive smile at Hugh, at the other end of the table, but it was not returned, though his gaze was riveted on her; he was not one of those persons of whom it is said by their detractors that their temper is not to be depended upon-when he was once put out he remained so for a long time. While in this condition, he had a habit, probably inherited from his father, of swearing softly to himself. Unaware of this peculiarity, poor Miss Joddrell, who, of course, could not believe her ears, would faintly murmur, 'I beg your pardon, I did not quite catch what you said?' when he would smile grimly, and plunge into conversation for a minute or two. Clara perceived it all, and shook with silent laughter, as the M.F.H. described to her at ccnsiderable length how in some run last winter no less than ten men 'came croppers.' He pronounced her afterwards to be not only the handsomest girl in England, but one who understood a joke.

Charlie made the running with the heiress in a manner which, if it had been Hugh instead of him, would have delighted his mother's heart. Of course, if Hugh would not exert himself to win her, she ought not to have grudged her to her younger son, but she could not bear the thought of her darling thus 'sinning his mercies.' She, too, well understood why that frown corrugated the forehead of her eldest son, and cursed that fatal beauty, which, in public or in private, held his too susceptible heart in thrall; and yet it was so difficult-the dear boy having so proud a spirit-to put a stop to the thing. She made up her mind, as a last resort, to represent to Hugh that in case Charlie should win Miss Mumchance he would be in a better position in the county than himself, a consideration which she well knew would have no light weight with him. Charlie's own interests scarcely entered into her thoughts; so easy it is, having once done a man a wrong, to contemplate the doing him another.

Sir Richard, on the other hand, whose languid attention

had been aroused by the same cause, was well pleased to note his favourite son lifting with so light a hand the three-hundredthousand-pounder. Nothing would have given him moro satisfaction than to see him win her; that in so doing he would 'wipe Hugh's eye,' as he expressed it to himself, would by no means have detracted from his enjoyment, but the chief happiness it would confer upon him would be the sense of personal relief. Well placed and well provided for, Charlie would be no longer the object of pity and remorse that he now was to him; his conscience-or so he flattered himself-would henceforth cease to trouble him. It was true that at the best Charles would still be defrauded of his title after his father's death, but, if he hankered after such vanities, it was possible that even that might be remedied by a judicious outlay of Miss Mumchance's money. As for that young lady herself, as apart from her wealth, I am afraid she was utterly left out of Sir Richard's calculations.

Almost the only person, indeed, in the whole company who did not give one thought to Miss Mumchance's fortune was the young gentleman who seemed in such a fair way to get it; his indifference in the matter, no doubt, assisted him very materially, for it was rare to the great heiress to meet a companion at the dinner-table who ignored her financial position, and treated her like any other young woman-nay, even more familiarly, for it must be confessed that Mr. Charles's manners, though perfectly courteous and gentlemanlike, were not those of the Vere de Veres. His spirits were high, his disposition frank, and he felt himself at home wherever he was. Artificiality and affectation were hateful to him; he disliked airs in a woman almost as much as swagger in a man, and the more natural she was the more she was sure to please, and to be pleased with him.

Naturalness is not, of course, to be recommended to everybody; but Charles Trevor could afford to display that gift. He had no meannesses to conceal, and though tender to youth, and respectful to old age, had not the slightest regard for adventitious distinctions. His education had been loose and fragmentary; it was fortunate for him that he had a keen intuition, or he would often have displayed a shameful ignorance; but he had the art of making himself agreeable-where any reasonable opportunity was given to him-in a very high degree. Pride and Priggism shrank from his bright genial talk, like hothouse plants from the wholesome breeze of Spring; but all persons with any strata of good nature, however overlaid by form and gloss, were attracted by it, and Miss Mary Anne Mumchance was very much attracted. It is fair to say, however, that she was already prejudiced in his favour by her friend Mrs. Westrop, who had been favourably impressed with him at their

meeting on the Four Acre. That lady did not like the look of his brother, and Lad already constituted herself his partisan; and, so far as she could influence matters, she had resolved-if it came to a question of Hugh or Charles as a suitor for her heiress-that Charles should not be the rejected one.

The necessity for such a choice was of course at present in the clouds, but no one, whether male or female, even so much as looked at Miss Mumchance without an eye to the matrimonial disposition of her. What was ludicrous enough, Mrs. Westrop was thoroughly convinced that in advocating Charles's cause she was pleasing his mother very much. Hugh, it was understood, was well provided for, and to see her younger son in a similar position would surely be gratifying to her. At the same time, being placed next to Charlie, Mrs. Westrop gratified herself by talking to him, and indeed took credit for some self-sacrifice in occasionally leaving him to talk to Miss Mumchance, who sat on the other side. Of the two, Charlie greatly preferred the conversation of the elder lady, of whom it had been shrewdly observed by a judge of such matters, that, 'if she had but smoked she would have been as good as a man.' What was meant by that apparently ungallant opinion, was that she used a certain freedom of speech which put a man at once at his ease with her (if it did not frighten him out of his wits), and established a good fellowship rare between the sexes.

Had Lady Trevor been in her son's place, she would have learnt a good deal about the character and circumstances of the present company, which it would have been of great advantage to her to know for Mrs. Westrop, though no cynic, was, as Sir Richard had hinted, a very acute commentator, and spared nobody, not even herself.

'You and I, Mr. Charles,' she observed, 'are both as poor as Job, which should be a bond between us. We must make common. cause against all these prosperous people.'

'By all means,' replied Charlie gaily. "Whose pocket shall I pick while you knock him on the head?'

I think you might at least have made the division of labour the other way,' she answered reproachfully. However, it is quite true that of us two it is I who am the combative one. You see, I have lost my money, which makes me bitter and antagonistic; whereas you, I suppose, have never had any to lose.' 'Not a stiver,' was the frank reply.

'And yet you don't resent it. You are like the needy knifegrinder a wretch whom no sense of wrong can rouse to vengeance. My dear Mary Anne, this young gentleman is like yourself-much too good-natured.'

Then she let the young people talk together a bit, consoling herself for her own silence by watching the gloom that their laughter