"Well, you must not expect me to understand all that," replied her nephew, in a puzzled tone. "In the colonies, we did not think much about that sort of thing: it would not have done there to inquire too narrowly into a man's antecedents. I knew capital fellows whose fathers had been butchers, and bakers, and candlestick-makers; and, bless me! what does it matter if the fellow is all right himself?" he finished; for the last Challoner was a decided Radical. But Mrs. Challoner, who was mildly obstinate in such matters, would not yield her point: "You would think differently if you had been educated at Eton. In England, it is necessary to discriminate among one's acquaintances. I find no fault with Dick: he is as nice and gentlemanly as possible; but his father has not got his good-breeding; possibly he had not his advantages. But it is they--the Maynes--who would be honored by an alliance with one of my daughters." And Mrs. Challoner raised her head and drew herself up with such queenly dignity that Sir Harry dared not argue the point. "Oh, yes; I see," he returned, hastily. "Well, I shall let him know what you think. You need not be afraid I shall lower your dignity, Aunt Catherine. I meant to be rather high and mighty myself,--that is, if I could manage it." And he broke into one of his huge laughs. Mrs. Challoner was very fond of her nephew; but she was not a clever woman, and she did not always understand his hints. When they were alone together, he was perpetually making this sort of remarks to her in a half-serious, half-joking way, eliciting her opinions, consulting her tastes, with a view to his future plans. With the girls he was provokingly reticent. Phillis and Dulce used to catechise him sometimes; but his replies were always evasive. "Do you know, Harry," Phillis said to him once, very gravely, "I think you are leading a dreadfully idle life? You do nothing absolutely all day but walk to and fro between the hotel and the Friary." "Come, now," retorted her cousin, in an injured tone, "I call that confoundedly hard on a fellow who has come all these thousands of miles just to cultivate his relations and enjoy a little relaxation. Have I not worked hard enough all my life to earn a holiday now?" "Oh, yes," she returned, provokingly, "we all know how hard you have worked; but all the same it does not do to play at idleness too long. You are very much improved, Harry. Your tailor has done wonders for you; and I should not be ashamed to walk down Bond Street with you any afternoon, though the people do stare, because you are so big. But don't you think it is time to settle down? You might take rooms somewhere. Lord Fitzroy knows of some capital ones in Sackville Street; Algie Burgoyne had them." "Well, no, thank you, Phillis: I don't think I shall go in for rooms." "Well, then, a house: you know you are so excessively rich, Harry," drawling out her words in imitation of his rather slow pronunciation.