‘Those were the stock-in-trade with which my father began his career,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe he had even the traditional half-crown. I’ve no doubt if he had possessed such a coin his mates would have made him spend it on beer. He began life, a barefooted, ignorant lad, upon a railroad in the north of England; and before his fortieth birthday he was one of the greatest contractors and one of the best-informed men of his time; but he never mastered the right use of the aspirate, and he never could bring himself to wear gloves. It was his fancy to keep those old tools of his, and to take his visitors to look at them, after they had gone the round of house and gardens.’ ‘I hope you are proud of him,’ said Daphne, with a bright penetrating glance which seemed to pierce Mr. Goring’s soul. ‘I should hate you if I thought that, even for one moment in your life, you could feel ashamed of such a father.’ ‘Then I’m afraid I must endure your hate,’ said Gerald. ‘No; I have never felt ashamed of my father: he was the dearest, kindest, most unselfish, most indulgent father that ever spoiled an unworthy son. But I have occasionally felt ashamed of that barrow, when it has been exhibited and explained to a new acquaintance, and I have seen that the now acquaintance thought the whole thing—the mock mediæval abbey, and the barrow, and my dear simple-hearted dad—one stupendous joke.’ ‘I should be more ashamed of Felicia, Countess of Heronville, than of that barrow, if I were you,’ exclaimed Daphne, flushed and indignant. ‘You little radical! Mistress Felicia was by no means an exemplary person, but she was one of the loveliest women at Charles’s court, where lovely women congregated by common consent, while all the ugly ones buried themselves at their husbands’ country seats, and thought that some fiery comet must be swooping down upon the world because of wickedness in high places. Don’t be too hard upon poor Lady Heronville. She died in the zenith of her charms, while quite a young woman.’ ‘Do you think she ought to be pitied for that?’ demanded Daphne. ‘Why, it was the brightest fate Heaven could give her. The just punishment for her evil ways would have been a long loveless old age, and to see her beauty fade day by day, and to know that the world she loved despised and forgot her. “Whom the gods love die young, was said of old; And many deaths do they escape by this.”’ ‘Where did you find those lines, little one?’ ‘In a book we used to read aloud at Madame Tolmache’s, “Gems from Byron.”’ ‘Oh, I see! Mere chippings, diamond dust. I was afraid you’d been at the Koh-i-noor itself.’ ‘Are we to have some tea, Gerald?’ asked Madoline, crossing to them and looking at her watch as she came. ‘It is half-past four, and we must be going home soon.’ ‘To the cloisters, ladies and gentlemen, to all that there is of the most mediæval in the Abbey.’