The vicar shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say: ‘You hear the kind of arguments I am compelled to listen to.’ Then he again took up the thread of his narrative. ‘It was not till after young Ridsdale had become engaged to Clarice Loraine that we discovered he was the son of Sir William Ridsdale, a wealthy baronet of ancient family. The next thing was to obtain the baronet’s consent to the engagement. It would appear that the family estates are not entailed, and, as a consequence, should Master Archie run counter to his father’s wishes, the latter can dispose of his property in any way he may think best. Well, the all-important missive was written and posted to Mentone, where the baronet was at that time residing. The answer was—well, what do you think it was?’ ‘A peremptory order by the first post to the young man to break off the engagement.’ ‘Nothing of the kind; but a visit one afternoon at the vicarage from a certain Colonel Woodruffe, who had come as plenipotentiary from the baronet. Sir William was an invalid, and could not travel, so he had deputed the colonel to act in his stead. The father had no doubt in his own mind that his son had fallen into the toils of an adventuress, and the colonel’s instructions were to break off the engagement at any cost, and take Master Archie back with him.’ ‘A sensible man that Sir William. And how did the affair end?’ ‘In a way that you would hardly guess. The gallant colonel, instead of carrying out his instructions, and breaking off the engagement between the young people, ended by falling in love himself with the fascinating widow and proposing marriage.’ ‘A change of front with a vengeance! And the answer?’ ‘A rejection.’ ‘Check for the colonel.’ ‘But, old bachelor though you are, Mac, I daresay you know quite enough of the sex to be aware that a woman’s No is not always final. At anyrate, the colonel, who is really a very fine fellow, is evidently a believer in that doctrine, seeing that five days ago on his way to Scotland he stopped here for an hour, had an interview with Madame De Vigne and renewed his offer.’ ‘And the answer to his second offer?’ queried the doctor eagerly. The vicar shook his head. ‘Pen, perhaps, can tell you more about that than I.’ Miss Pen looked up quickly. ‘The answer is to be given him to-day.’ ‘To-day!’ ‘The colonel will call here this afternoon on his way back from Scotland, when Madame De Vigne has promised that he shall have her final decision—Yes or No.’ ‘So that, my dear Mac,’ said the vicar with a smile, ‘all things considered, your chance of winning the widow does not seem a very promising one.’ ‘Well, well,’ answered the doctor sturdily. ‘If a better man than Sandy M‘Murdo wins the fair prize, why then I’ll—I’ll be his best-man at the wedding.’ For a minute or two nothing was heard save the busy scratching of Miss Gaisford’s pen. ‘How will this do, Septimus?’ she asked presently, and with that she began to read from her manuscript.