“Darling!” she called him before them all. “Oh! how I suffer for this ignominy I see you compelled for a moment to endure. But it is but for a moment. They must vacate; and you will soon be out of this horrid hole.” “Where he just said he was glad to give us a welcome,” muttered Old Tom. Evan heard him, and laughed. The Countess laughed too. “No, we will not be impatient. We are poor insignificant people!” she said; and turning to her mother, added: “And yet I doubt not you think the smallest of our landed gentry equal to great continental seigneurs. I do not say the contrary.” “You will fill Evan’s head with nonsense till you make him knock up a horse a week, and never go to his natural bed,” said Mrs. Mel, angrily. “Look at him! Is a face like that fit for business?” “Certainly, certainly not!” said the Countess. “Well, Mother, the horse is dismissed,—you won’t have to complain any more,” said Evan, touching her hand. “Another history commences from to-day.” The Countess watched him admiringly. Such powers of acting she could not have ascribed to him. “Another history, indeed!” she said. “By the way, Van, love! was it out of Glamorganshire—were we Tudors, according to Papa? or only Powys chieftains? It’s of no moment, but it helps one in conversation.” “Not half so much as good ale, though!” was Old Tom’s comment. The Countess did not perceive its fitness, till Evan burst into a laugh, and then she said: “Oh! we shall never be ashamed of the Brewery. Do not fear that, Mr. Cogglesby.” Old Tom saw his farce reviving, and encouraged the Countess to patronize him. She did so to an extent that called on her Mrs. Mel’s reprobation, which was so cutting and pertinent, that Harriet was compelled to defend her sister, remarking that perhaps her mother would soon learn that Louisa was justified in not permitting herself and family to be classed too low. At this Andrew, coming from a private interview with Evan, threw up his hands and eyes as one who foretold astonishment but counselled humility. What with the effort of those who knew a little to imply a great deal; of those who knew all to betray nothing; and of those who were kept in ignorance to strain a fact out of the conflicting innuendos the general mystification waxed apace, and was at its height, when a name struck on Evan’s ear that went through his blood like a touch of the torpedo. He had been called into the parlour to assist at a consultation over the Brewery affairs. Raikes opened the door, and announced, “Sir Franks and Lady Jocelyn.” Them he could meet, though it was hard for his pride to pardon their visit to him there. But when his eyes discerned Rose behind them, the passions of his lower nature stood up armed. What could she have come for but to humiliate, or play with him? A very few words enabled the Countess to guess the cause for this visit. Of course, it was to beg time! But they thanked Evan. For something generous, no doubt.