He let all other feelings and purposes lapse for this one. He gave himself up to charm, and to be charmed; he flattered Mrs. Atheling into absolute complaisance; he persuaded Kate to walk through the garden and orchard with him, and then, with caressing voice and a gentle pressure of the hand, reminded her of days and events they had shared together. Smiles flashed from face to face. Her simple sweetness, her ready sympathy, her ingenuous girlish expressions, carried him back to his boyhood. Kate shone on his heart like sunshine; and he did not know that it had become dark until he had left Atheling behind, and found himself Exham-way, riding rapidly to the joyful whirl and hurry of his thoughts. Now happiness, as well as sorrow, is selfish. Kate was happy and not disposed to talk about her happiness. Her mother's insistent questions about Lord Exham troubled her. She desired to go into solitude with the new emotions this wonderful day had produced; but the force of those lovely habits of respect and obedience, which had become by constant practice a second nature, kept her at her mother's side, listening with sweet credulousness to all her opinions, and answering her hopes with her own assurances. The reward of such dutiful deference was not long in coming. In a short time Mrs. Atheling said,-- "It has been such a day as never was, Kate; and you must be tired. Now then, go to bed, my girl, and sleep; for goodness knows when your father will get home!" So Kate kissed her mother--kissed her twice--as if she was dimly conscious of unfairly keeping back some pleasure, and would thus atone for her selfishness. And Mrs. Atheling sat down in the chimney-corner with the gray stocking she was knitting, and pondered her son's good fortune for a while. Then she rose and sent the maids to bed, putting the clock an hour forward ere she did so, and excusing the act by saying, "If I don't set it fast, we shall soon be on the wrong side of everything." Another hour she sat calmly knitting, while in the dead silence of the house the clock's regular "_tick! tick!_" was like breathing. It seemed to live, and to watch with her. As the Squire came noisily into the room it struck eleven. "My word, Maude!" he said with great good humour, "I am sorry to keep you waiting; but there has been some good work done to-night, so you won't mind it, I'll warrant." "Well now, John, if you and your friends have been at Pickering's, and have done any 'good' work there, I will be astonished! You may warrant _that_ with every guinea you have." "We were at Rudby's. There were as many as nine landed men of us together; and for once there was one mind in nine men." "That is, you were all for yourselves." "No! Dal it, we were all for old England and the Constitution! The Constitution, just as it is, and no tinkering with it." "I wonder which of the nine was the biggest fool among you?"