Perhaps in the end she wouldn’t! I was thinking that possibly the course of events might cause Lady Dundrannan not to wish to see her cousin—and his establishment—at Cragsfoot. “If she did—and he did,” Waldo went on, “well, I should be in a tight corner. Because, of course, he could outbid practically everybody, if he chose—and what reason for objecting could I give?” “You seem to have something in your mind. You’re looking—for you—quite crafty! Out with it!” “Well, supposing I’d promised that, if I sold, I’d give you first offer?” Waldo had delivered himself of his idea—and it seemed nothing less than a proposal to put a spoke in the wheel of his wife’s plans as he conceived them! Decidedly rebellion was abroad—open and covert! It worked mightily in Godfrey; it was working even in Waldo. “I don’t like your selling,” I said. “You’re the chief—I’m a cadet. But if you’re forced—I beg your pardon, Waldo! If you decide”—he pressed my arm again, smiling at my correction, but saying nothing—“to go, there’s nothing I should like so much as to settle down there myself. But I can’t outbid——” “A man doesn’t ask his own kinsman more than a fair price, when the deal’s part of a family arrangement,” said Waldo. “May I speak to my father, and write you a proposal about it? And we’ll let the matter stand where it does till we know what he thinks and till you’ve had an opportunity of considering.” “All right,” said I, and we walked on a little way in silence. Then I felt again the slight pressure on my arm. “Well, here’s where we’re staying. I promised to meet them at tea. Will you come in?” I shook my head, murmuring something about business. He did not press the point. “We’re off again early to-morrow, and dining with some friends of Eunice’s to-night. See you again soon at Cragsfoot—we’re going to Briarmount. Good-by!” But that was not quite his last word. He gave my arm a final squeeze; and he smiled again and again a little ruefully. “I rather think that, in his heart, the old pater would prefer what I’ve suggested even to our—to any other arrangement, Julius.” It was quite as much as it was diplomatic to say about his father’s feelings on that point. Like the one which had been discussed by Godfrey and myself, it might be considered delicate. CHAPTER XVIII THE WINNING TICKET THEN came the astonishing turn of fortune’s wheel—that is almost fact, scarcely metaphor—which seemed to transform the whole situation. It came to my knowledge on the very day on which those protracted labors of ours reached a conclusion at last.