'Call it "recompense" for the nonce,' said Lady Jocelyn. 'Do you still hold to your original proposition, Tom?' 'Every penny, my lady. I like the young fellow, and she's a jolly little lass--if she means it:--she's a woman.' 'True,' said Lady Jocelyn. 'Considering that fact, you will oblige me by keeping the matter quiet.' 'Does she want to try whether the tailor's a gentleman still, my lady- eh?' 'No. I fancy she will have to see whether a certain nobleman may be one.' The Countess now joined them. Sir Franks had informed her of her brother's last fine performance. After a short, uneasy pause, she said, glancing at Evan:-- 'You know his romantic nature. I can assure you he was sincere; and even if you could not accept, at least--' 'But we have accepted, Countess,' said Rose. 'The estate!' 'The estate, Countess. And what is more, to increase the effect of his generosity, he has consented to take a recompense.' 'Indeed!' exclaimed the Countess, directing a stony look at her brother. 'May I presume to ask what recompense?' Rose shook her head. 'Such a very poor one, Countess! He has no idea of relative value.' The Countess's great mind was just then running hot on estates, and thousands, or she would not have played goose to them, you may be sure. She believed that Evan had been wheedled by Rose into the acceptance of a small sum of money, in return for his egregious gift. With an internal groan, the outward aspect of which she had vast difficulty in masking, she said: 'You are right--he has no head. Easily cajoled!' Old Tom sat down in a chair, and laughed outright. Lady Jocelyn, in pity for the poor lady, who always amused her, thought it time to put an end to the scene. 'I hope your brother will come to us in about a week,' she said. 'May I expect the favour of your company as well?' The Countess felt her dignity to be far superior as she responded: 'Lady Jocelyn, when next I enjoy the gratification of a visit to your hospitable mansion, I must know that I am not at a disadvantage. I cannot consent to be twice pulled down to my brother's level.' Evan's heart was too full of its dim young happiness to speak, or care for words. The cold elegance of the Countess's curtsey to Lady Jocelyn: her ladyship's kindly pressure of his hand: Rose's stedfast look into his eyes: Old Tom's smothered exclamation that he was not such a fool as he seemed: all passed dream-like, and when he was left to the fury of the Countess, he did not ask her to spare him, nor did he defend himself. She bade adieu to him and their mutual relationship that very day. But her star had not forsaken her yet. Chancing to peep into the shop, to intrust a commission to Mr. John Raikes, who was there doing penance for his career as a gentleman, she heard Old Tom and Andrew laughing, utterly unlike bankrupts. 'Who 'd have thought the women such fools! and the Countess, too!'