'Not his fault--!' Sir Philip, in a mixture of amazement and indignation, glared first at his daughter, then at the handsome stranger, who, however, met his look frankly and resolutely. For a few moments the baronet's face worked strangely: then, much to the surprise and more to the relief of the guilty persons, he burst into a shout of laughter. CHAPTER XIV. THE WEDDING-GIFT. It was not so difficult, after this, to make the necessary explanations and apologies. Sir Philip had heard about Captain Bramston before, though Hilda had not; and, in the bottom of his heart, he did not object to regard him in the light of a possible son-in-law. But it would not do to confess this just at present. Captain Bramston had stood to his guns, and, on the spot where he stood, had declared his love for Hilda Kildhurm, and demanded Sir Philip's consent to their betrothal. 'I can give you nothing of the kind, sir,' replied the Baronet, endeavouring to look immitigable. 'Your request is as premature as--as it is contrary to sound principle. Anyone would suppose, Captain Bramston, that you expected the world to come to an end by to-morrow morning, by the haste you are in to have your affairs settled!' 'In this case, Sir Philip,' replied the Captain, with equal respect and firmness, 'sound principle is of no use. The falling in love is an accomplished fact. The next thing to settle is the date of the wedding.' 'Upon my word, Captain Bramston,' the Baronet exclaimed, 'if you are as pushing in war as you seem to be in other matters, you should have been a general long ago. But we will, if you please, dismiss this subject for the present. I am in no hurry to lose my daughter in the first place, and moreover, in an affair of this nature, I could not think of deciding anything without consulting Lady Kildhurm, my mother.' Lady Kildhurm and Hilda had withdrawn during this colloquy between the gentlemen, and Hilda had gone into the house. But as the Baronet and Captain Bramston, still conversing earnestly, slowly made their way across the lawn, they were suddenly aware that Lady Kildhurm was again near them. They halted, and were silent. She was, at this time, almost at the extreme limit of old age; yet her eyes were clear and her bearing dignified; and so far from her mental infirmity having become exaggerated, it had grown year by year less obtrusive, though she was at least as far as ever from being on normal terms with the material world. She lived in a world of her own; but she accommodated the latter to the former more easily than before. So serene and unexaggerated were her tones and gestures, that a stranger would hardly have suspected that she was virtually unconscious of what most people call the realities of life.