“No, no! you’ll find him very comfortably installed when you get back,” said Sir Within. “He’ll be vexed, he’ll be angry, doubtless; but as a minister plenipotentiary vents his ill-temper in a despatch, your man of law consigns all his indignation, more practically, to his bill of costs. What an avalanche of six-and-eightpences will fall on your forgetfulness.” “We must hasten to repair the disaster. Sir Within, would you oblige me by ordering our ponies. I know you’ll forgive our abrupt leave-taking.” “I shall never forgive the cause of it. Why not let me send a messenger over to ask him, saying I had insisted on detaining you?” “Oh, on no account! Besides, he’s a touchy person, and my husband is most tenacious regarding him. I must hasten back and make my explanations in person.” “I don’t know how I am to face him at all!” cried Georgina. “I’d certainly not try,” said Sir Within. Vague as the mere words were, they were uttered with a significance that plainly said, “You might stay where you are;” and Miss Courtenay evidently so read them, for her cheek reddened as she turned away. Lady Vyner, however, went on: “I don’t think we shall have any difficulty about it--at least, I hope not--though what I’m to say, and how to say it, I cannot imagine.” “Throw me into the breach,” said Sir Within; “say that, hearing of his arrival, I begged a visit from you--that I wanted some legal advice--I required a draft of--what shall I say?--I can scarcely be going to be married. Let it be a will, then.” “Oh no, not a will, Sir Within!” said Georgina, with a very soft smile. “It shall be whatever you decide for it,” said he, assisting her with her shawl as he spoke. “Do you ever mean to come over to breakfast with us?” asked Lady Vyner. “The promise has been made and renewed, I think, a dozen times.” “May I say next Sunday, then?” “And you’ll promise to come to church with us afterwards?” cried Lady Vyner. He muttered something with a smile to Miss Courtenay, and she turned away abruptly, but ere she drew down her veil her face betokened the reverse of displeasure. Though, as they drove homeward, the unpleasant explanation that lay before them engaged much of their thoughts, taxing all their address how to encounter its difficulty, yet, from time to time, Georgina would return to talk of the house they had just quitted, and the host. “It is easy enough to see why our straitlaced neighbours do not take to him,” said she; “he is too much a man of the world--too tolerant and forgiving for their notions.” “A little too lax, also, for the proprieties of English life,” added Lady Vyner. “For its hypocrisies, if you like, Laura. I’m certain people are pretty much the same everywhere, though the way they talk about themselves may be very different.” “I suspect he has made a conquest, Georgy,” said her sister, laughing; “or rather, that his magnificent old castle, and his Vandykes, and his pineries, and his conservatory have----”