“She knows naught about it,” he replied, colouring. “We are no longer allowed to meet. The Bishop does not approve of our love.” “Ah! that accounts for the change I noticed in her,” said the little lady. “I grieve for you both. But you are young; matters may right themselves in a year or two.” They had reached the dessert stage, and Mrs. Joyce Jefferies had just put a bunch of grapes on her godson’s plate, when she was startled by a loud knock at the door. Miss Acton, returning from her mission to the low-spirited dog in the garden, met the visitor in the entrance-hall, and with heightened colour ushered him into the dining-room. “Godmother, here is Mr. Geers,” she said, her pretty eyes bright with pleasure. Now Mrs. Joyce Jefferies, having the kindest of hearts, loved nothing better than to set the course of true love running in safe and smooth channels. It had long been her desire to see Mr. Geers and Eliza Acton wedded. Unfortunately, Mr. Geers at present showed no signs of making any proposal for Miss Acton’s hand, and since the godmother was no matchmaker, she dared not even hint at what she so greatly wished. “This is my godson, Mr. Gabriel Harford,” she said, having received the visitor with a warm welcome. “Gabriel, you have not, I think, met my cousin, Mr. Geers, of Carnons.” Gabriel bowed, but his whole face seemed to stiffen, much to the astonishment of his godmother. Mr. Geers would take nothing but a cup of sack, having already dined. He was a most quaint-looking person, but spite of the wandering eye which Dr. Coke had mentioned, there was something not unpleasing in his good-natured, shrewd expression and in his wide mouth, about which there lurked a kind of satirical smile. “I have come to you, cousin,” he said, “to be cheered and heartened before going through a great ordeal. The fact is, I am going a-wooing.” “Indeed,” said Mrs. Joyce Jefferies, feeling perplexed. “I have only once glimpsed the fair lady, and have not yet been introduced to her. The ceremony is to take place this afternoon at three o’ the clock, and I have a sinking feeling here already.” He placed his hand on his heart. Then taking out a watch from a shagreen case that hung at his fob, “There are yet two hours, and I pray you to hearten me up.” The hostess laughed cheerfully, but all the time her kinsman had been speaking she had observed with discomfort the pallor of her goddaughter’s face, and the extraordinary way in which Gabriel was swallowing the grapes she had put on his plate--certainly a most terrible fit of indigestion must be the result. “We will do our best to hearten you, but could do so better did we know the fair lady’s name,” she said.