“No; not lately. At Vizard Court there was. But that is all over now, I conclude. It was a Mr. Severne, an adventurer, a fellow that was caught out in a lie before us all. Vizard tells me a lady came and claimed him before Miss Vizard, and he ran away.” “An unworthy attachment, in short?” “Very unworthy, if it was an attachment at all.” “Was he at Vizard Court when she declined your hand?” “Yes.” “Did he remain, after you went?” “I suppose so. Yes, he must have.” “Then the whole thing is clear: that man has come forward again unexpectedly, or written, and she dismisses you. My darling, there is but one thing for you to do. Leave her, and thank her for telling you in time. A less honorable fool would have hidden it, and then we might have had a Countess of Uxmoor in the Divorce Court some day or other. “I had better go abroad,” said Uxmoor, with a groan. “This country is poisoned for me.” “Go, by all means. Let Janneway pack up your things to-morrow.” “I should like to kill that fellow first.” “You will not even waste a thought on him, if you are my son.” “You are right, mother. What am I to say to her?” “Not a word.” “What, not answer her letter? It is humble enough, I am sure--poor soul! Mother, I am wretched, but I am not bitter, and my rival will revenge me.” “Uxmoor, your going abroad is the only answer she shall have. The wisest man, in these matters, who ever lived has left a rule of conduct to every well-born man--a rule which, believe me, is wisdom itself: “Le bruit est pour le fat, la plainte est pour le sot; L'honnete homme trompe'; s'e'loigne, et ne dit mot.” “You will make a tour, and not say a word to Miss Vizard, good, bad, nor indifferent. I insist upon that.” “Very well. Thank you, dear mother; you guide me, and don't let me make a fool of myself, for I am terribly cut up. You will be the only Countess of Uxmoor in my day.” Then he knelt at her feet, and she kissed his head and cried over him; but her tears only made this proud lady stronger. Next day he started on his travels.