Lady Flight had begged that all would come to breakfast with her, and this was accepted by the Goyle party; but the Clipstone pony-carriage was waiting for the others, and they could not accede to Lady Flight’s impromptu, and rather nervous, invitation. But before they started Lord Rotherwood managed to say a few words aside to Miss Prescott of the impression he had divined from his voyage with Hubert Delrio, whom he thought a young man of great ability and promise, and of excellent principles, but with a chivalry it was quite refreshing to see in youth, perhaps ready to strain honourable scruples almost too far for his own good or that of others. Magdalen thought she perceived what had been in the marquis’s mind when, immediately after her return home, Hubert and Vera came up, hand in hand, and he informed her of their mutual attachment. “I am afraid, Miss Prescott,” he said, “that we may not have acted rightly or squarely by you; and this last adventure was a most unhappy result of my careless awkwardness and preoccupation.” “It was the merest accident. We all quite understand. It is not to be thought of.” “You are very good to say so, but—” Both he and Magdalen wished that Vera had not been present, blushing and smiling, or rather simpering; and as Hubert hesitated over his “but,” Magdalen said: “Vera, my dear, Hubert and I can talk over this better without you. You had better go and find Paula.” “Only, sister, please do understand that I care for Hubert with all my heart,” said Vera, much less childishly than Magdalen had expected. However, she went, while Magdalen succeeded in saying what she had intended—that Hubert must not consider himself in the smallest degree bound by what had been accident, entirely unintentional and innocent. “You are generous, Miss Prescott. You understand! But the world! It was public.” “Never mind the world. You see what sensible people think.” “But, indeed, Miss Prescott, I cannot leave you to suppose I am only actuated by the fact of that awkward situation. Of course that would never have been if I did not deeply, entirely love your sister. It has only precipitated matters. I entreat of you to give her to me, as one who is—who is devoted to her! If my station is inferior I will work—” “That is not the point. Vera is too young for such things. What does your father say?” “My father sees that I am right.” “I see what that means,” said Magdalen, smiling. “But where is he? I should like to talk to him.”