“I'll sell my secret for it cheap,” said Fossbrooke, laughing. “It is, never to go grubbing for mean motives in this life; never tormenting yourself what this might mean or that other might portend, but take the world for what it seems, or what it wishes you to believe it. Take it with its company face on, and never ask to see any one in _déshabille_ but old and dear friends. Life has two sides, and some men spin the coin so as always to make the wrong face of the medal come uppermost. I learned the opposite plan when I was very young, and I have not forgotten it. Good-night now; I promised Beattie to look in on him before midnight, and it's not far off, I see.” “We shall have a day or two of you, I hope, at Crew before you leave England.” “When I have purchased my estate and married off my young people, I 'll certainly make you a visit.” CHAPTER XXII. AT HOWTH On the same evening that Fossbrooke was dining with the Viceroy, Trafford arrived in Dublin, and set out at once for the little cottage at Howth to surprise his old friend by his sudden appearance. Tom Lendrick had given him so accurate a description of the spot that he had no difficulty in finding it. If somewhat disappointed at first on learning that Sir Brook had dined in town, and might not return till a late hour, his mind was so full of all he had to say and to do that he was not sorry to have some few hours to himself for quiet and tranquil thought. He had come direct from Malta without going to Holt, and therefore was still mainly ignorant of the sentiments of his family towards him, knowing nothing beyond the fact that Sir Brook had induced his father to see him. Even that was something. He did not look to be restored to his place as the future head of the house, but he wanted recognition and forgiveness,--the first for Lucy's sake more than his own. The thought was too painful that his wife--and he was determined she should be his wife--should not be kindly received and welcomed by his family. “I ask nothing beyond this,” would he say over and over to himself. “Let us be as poor as we may, but let them treat us as kindred, and not regard us as outcasts. I bargain for no more.” He believed himself thoroughly and implicitly when he said this. He was not conscious with what force two other and very different influences swayed him. He wished his father, and still more his mother, should see Lucy,--not alone see her beauty and gracefulness, but should see the charm of her manner, the fascination which her bright temperament threw around her. “Why, her very voice is a spell!” cried he, aloud, as he pictured her before him. And then, too, he nourished a sense of pride in thinking how Lucy would be struck by the sight of Holt,--one of the most perfect specimens of old Saxon architecture in the kingdom; for though a long line of descendants had added largely, and incongruously too, to the building, the stern and squat old towers, the low broad battlements