stepfather was hard upon him. Thus the company speculated; but the company held its breath when Mr Summerhayes laid his hand on Charley’s shoulder, and solved the wonder of the evening in the strangest, most unexpected manner—to nobody so unexpected as to his bewildered wife. “My friends,” said Mr Summerhayes, in his gentlemanly way (and it must be allowed that, whatever were his faults, Tom Summerhayes always was a gentleman), “we drank this boy’s health to-day as the heir of Fontanel; but since then something has happened which has excited us all considerably, as I daresay you will have perceived; and I have to tell you that Charley is not only the heir, but the master of this house. I am sure,” continued Mr Summerhayes, leaning his arm more heavily upon the shoulder of the astonished youth, “there never was a more hopeful or promising beginning than he will make, and I know he will have all your good wishes. The fact is that the property became my wife’s under a mistake: the entail was supposed to have been broken, which turns out not to have been the case; and it is an additional pleasure to us,” said Mary’s husband, turning round with a smile to meet her look, which was fixed upon him, and then leisurely surveying the amazed assembly—“it is a great additional pleasure to us,” continued Mr Summerhayes, “to find ourselves entitled, on a day every way so happy, to give up our laborious stewardship, and put our boy in possession of his own. I ask you over again, my excellent friends and neighbours, to drink the health of Charles Clifford of Fontanel.” It was thus that Mr Summerhayes extricated himself from his false position. The cheers which disturbed all the loiterers in the ball-room, and brought them in a crowd to see what it was, were more for the retiring monarch than the new sovereign. Charley himself, in a warm revulsion of his generous heart, had seized both his stepfather’s hands, and wrung them with strenuous gratitude. “I will never forget your generosity,” cried the eager boy, who would have made over Fontanel there and then had Summerhayes pleased, into his keeping over again. Charley knew nothing of the stormy scene with Courtenay—the silent rage and mortification which had thrown off Mary’s attempts at consolation before necessity and his better genius warned Mr Summerhayes of this opportunity left him for a graceful retreat. Charley did not know, nor the world—and the few who did know had no wish to remember. The whole party was in a flutter of admiration; and poor Miss Laura and Miss Lydia did all but go into hysterics between horror at the catastrophe and pride in their brother. Never before had Mr Summerhayes of the Manor taken so high a position before the county as that night when he gave up possession of Fontanel. CHAPTER XI.—MRS SUMMERHAYES.