"The vindictive theory of punishment," he remarked, with apparent irrelevance, "does not commend itself to me. If no evil consequences exist to be averted, why should we punish?" and he pushed the plan farther into the blaze with the poker. "If you want to argue that sort of thing, old fellow, you must ring for Wilson. I'm going to have a try at some verses." "Going to write your own epitaph, like Swift?" Dale shook his head and smiled, with the impenetrable, hopeless happiness of successful love. CHAPTER XXVII. =A Villain Unmasked.= A few days after Dale's love affairs had begun to flow in a more peaceful channel the Mayor of Market Denborough had an interview with Mr. Philip Hume, and Philip emerged from the conversation with a smile of mingled amusement and perplexity on his face. The Mayor had been to the Grange; the Squire fully approved of the scheme; a hundred pounds was subscribed already, and another twenty or thirty expected. Philip was requested to act as an intermediary, and find out from Miss Fane what form she would prefer that the testimonial which Denborough intended to offer to her, in recognition of her signal gallantry, should take. "I wanted to wait and make it a wedding present," said the Mayor, with a wink, "but the Squire thinks we had better not wait for that." "Ah, does he?" said Philip. "Though what Mr. Bannister's waitin' for I can't see; and I said as much to Miss Janet when I met her in the garden." "What did she say?" asked Philip in some curiosity. "Well, sir, now you ask me, I don't think she said anything. She seemed a bit put-out like about something." "It couldn't have been anything you said?" "Why, no, sir. I only said as I shouldn't be slow to move if a young lady like Miss Fane was waitin' for me--and her havin' saved my life, too." "Good Lord!" "Beggin' your pardon, sir?" "Nothing, Mr. Mayor, nothing." "You'll see Miss Fane about it? She hasn't left the Colonel's." "Oh, yes, I suppose so. Yes, I'll see her." Dale had gone to London, alleging that he had shopping to do, and hardly denying that his business would lie chiefly at the jeweler's. Philip was glad that he was away, for he thus could start on his mission unquestioned. He found Nellie at home, and at once plunged into the matter. Directly Nellie understood what was proposed, she jumped up, crying: "Oh, no, they mustn't. You must stop them." "Why, it's a very natural tribute----" "I won't have it! I can't have it! You must tell them, Mr. Hume." "It'll look rather ungracious, won't it? Why shouldn't you take their present?" he asked, looking at her in a half-amused way. "Oh, no, no! You don't understand. Oh, what a wretched girl I am!" and Nellie, flinging herself in a chair, began to cry.