Beatrix rang and ordered the carriage to be got ready immediately, and to follow them on to the Vicarage. Her impetuosity bewildered Mr. Scratchell. She ran out of the room, and reappeared in a minute or so in her bonnet and fur jacket. He felt himself revolving in a whirlpool. To leave his home at half an hour’s notice, and go tearing off to London! He was rather pleased at the idea of a visit to London at a client’s expense. Travelling, hotel charges, everything would be paid for him on the highest level. He had not seen the metropolis for ten years. It would be an outing such as he had never had in his life before. He began to hope that Mr. Dulcimer would consent to his ward’s wild scheme. They found the Vicar in his beloved library, surrounded with bulky folios, his feet on the fender, and his mind a thousand miles away, with the primitive Aryan races. He was tracing the footsteps of a nomadic Indian tribe from fertile valleys eastward of the Caspian, through Persia and Asia Minor, to the shores of the Hellespont, where they were to crop up by and by as the Heraclidæ. ‘My dear Beatrix,’ he said, ‘the more I ruminate upon the subject, the more I am convinced that the Mosaic account is true, and that all the races of men have come from one common centre--in the East.’ ‘Then how do you account for the woolly-headed niggers, and the Laplanders, and the people with pink eyes?’ inquired Mr. Scratchell. ‘Climate, my dear sir, climate. A question of atmospheric influences.’ ‘Dear Mr. Dulcimer, I have come to ask you a favour,’ said Beatrix. ‘It is granted beforehand, dear child,’ said the Vicar, kissing her hand. The Aryan races had been particularly amenable to Mr. Dulcimer that morning, and the Vicar, always good-tempered, was absolutely overflowing with benevolence. ‘Oh, but this is a very serious matter,’ interposed Mr. Scratchell, anxious to do his duty. ‘You’ll have to give it your grave consideration.’ ‘I’m all attention,’ replied Mr. Dulcimer, with one eye on the Heraclidæ. Beatrix explained her desire to set Sir Kenrick’s estate free. ‘Well, my love, you have always intended to pay off those charges after your marriage, have you not?’ asked the Vicar, with a business-like air. ‘Certainly.’ ‘Then I cannot see that it makes any difference whether you pay them off before or after. Scratchell can protect your future interests in framing your marriage settlements. Be sure you see to that, Scratchell. It is somewhat Quixotic, my dear Beatrix, to take time by the forelock in this way, but it can do no harm, and it will afford Kenrick another evidence of your generous character.’