One evening in the week of Jack's return, to the surprise of all, in walked Mr John Feversham. He did not seem to have much to say, except that Uncle Piers and Aunt Lucrece were well. In fact, he never had much to say. Nor did he think it necessary to state what had brought him to Lancashire. He was asked to remain, of course, to which he assented, and slipped into his place with a quiet ponderosity which seemed to belong to him. "An oaken yule-log had as much sense, and were quicker!" [livelier] said Jack aside to Blanche. "Nay, he wanteth not for sense, I take it," returned his sister, "but of a truth he is solid matter." "I marvel if he ever gat into debt," observed Clare quietly from the other side of Jack. "He!" sneered that young gentleman. "He is the fashion of man that should pay all his trade-debts and ne'er ask for a rebate." "Well! methinks that were no very ill deed," said Clare. "A deed whereof no gentleman of spirit should be guilty!" "There be divers sorts of spirits, Jack." "There is but one manner of spirit," returned Jack sharply, "and I ne'er saw a spark thereof in yon bale of woollen goods labelled Jack Feversham." "May be thou wilt, some day," answered Clare. "That will be when the Ribble runneth up instead of down. He is a coward,--mine head to yon apple thereon." "Be not so sure thereof." "But I am sure thereof--as sure as a culverin shot." Clare dropped the subject. Rather late on the following evening, with his usual quiet, business-like air, John Feversham asked for a few words with Sir Thomas. Then--to the astonishment of that gentleman--the purport of his visit came out. He wanted Blanche. Sir Thomas was quite taken by surprise. It had never occurred to him that silent John Feversham had the faintest design upon any one. And what could this calm, undemonstrative man have seen in the butterfly Blanche, which had captivated him, of all people? He promised an answer the next day; and, feeling as if another straw had been added to his burden, he went to consult the ladies. Lady Enville disapproved of the proposal. So unlike Don Juan!--so totally inferior, in every respect! And would it not be desirable to wait and see whether John were really likely to succeed to his uncle's inheritance within any reasonable time? she calmly urged. Sir Piers might live twenty years yet, or he might have a family of his own, and then where would John Feversham be? In present circumstances, concluded her Ladyship, enjoying the scent of her pomander, she thought this a most undesirable match for Blanche, who could not do much worse, and might do much better. Rachel, as might be expected, took the contrary view. Unlike Don Juan!--yes, she hoped so, indeed! This was a sensible young man, who, it might be trusted, would keep Blanche in order, which she was likely enough to need as long as she lived. How should the girl do better? By all means take advantage of the offer.