"As to that, duty is a pleasure. They are such awfully jolly girls, and so uncommonly plucky, that I am as proud of them as though they were my own sisters. Nan is so confoundedly pretty, too. I don't wonder at your son's taste. He must be a lucky fellow who gets Nan." "Sir!" vociferated Mr. Mayne; and Sir Harry immediately changed his tactics: "That is a tidy place opposite you,--Gilsbank, I mean. I have been over there settling about the purchase. I am afraid Crauford is rather a screw: he wanted to drive too close a bargain. But I said, 'No; you shall have your money down, right and tight, but not a farthing over.' And I insisted on my right to change the name if I like. I have half a mind to call it 'Challoner Place.'" Mr. Mayne was wide awake now; his astonishment knew no bounds. "You are going to buy Gilsbank!" "I have bought it," was the cool response; "and I am now in treaty for Glen Cottage. My aunt has a fancy for her old home; and, though it is not much of a place, it is big enough for her and the girls; and Ibbetson has done a good deal to improve it. You look surprised, Mr. Mayne; but I suppose a man must live somewhere!" "Of course it is none of my business; but I thought Sir Francis was as poor as a church mouse. Mrs. Challoner was my informant; and she always led me to suppose so." "She was perfectly right. The poor old man never could keep money in his pocket: it always seemed to slip through his fingers. But that is not my case. I have been a lucky fellow all my life. I roughed it a bit in the colonies at first; but it did me no harm. And then we made a splendid hit out in Sydney,--coined money, in fact. I would not like to tell you what I made in one year: it seems blowing one's trumpet, somehow. But I soon got sick of making it; and here I am, with a tidy fortune,--plenty for myself, and enough to set up my aunt and the girls comfortably without feeling the loss. And now, Mr. Mayne when they are back at Glen Cottage, I want to know what you will do about your son." To do Mr Mayne justice, he was far too perplexed to answer off-hand; in fact, he was almost rendered dumb by excessive astonishment. To borrow his own forcible expression, used to his wife afterwards, "he hardly knew where he was, things were so topsy-turvy." In the old days, before Dick had produced that wonderful moustache that was so long in growing, Mr. Mayne had been very partial to his neighbors at Glen Cottage. It is always pleasant to a man to patronize and befriend a pretty woman; and Mrs. Challoner was an exceedingly pretty woman. It was quite an occupation to a busy man like the master of Longmead to superintend their garden and give his advice on all subjects that belong to a man's province.