But Sir Eustace was an amenable man. His favourite motto was “Live and let live”; and having given the matter his best consideration during the lengthy process of shaving himself on the following morning, he came to the conclusion, reluctantly enough it must be owned, that it was evident that his brother meant to have his own way, and therefore the best thing to be done was to fall in with his views and trust to the chapter of accidents to bring the thing to naught. Sir Eustace, for all his apparent worldliness and cynicism, was a good fellow at heart, and cherished a warm affection for his awkward, taciturn brother. He also cherished a great dislike for Lady Croston, whose character he thoroughly understood. He saw a good deal of her, it is true, because he happened to be one of the executors of her husband’s will; and since he had come into the baronetcy it had struck him that she had developed a considerable partiality for his society. The idea of a marriage between his brother and his brother’s old flame was in every way distasteful to him. In the first place, under her husband’s will, Madeline would bring, comparatively speaking, relatively little with her should she marry again. That was one objection. Another, and still more forcible one from Sir Eustace’s point of view, was that at her time of life she was not likely to present the house of Peritt with an heir. Now, Sir Eustace had not the slightest intention of marrying. Matrimony was, he considered, an excellent institution, and necessary to the carrying on of the world in a respectable manner, but it was not one with which he was anxious to identify himself. Therefore, if his brother married at all, it was his earnest desire that the union should bring children to inherit the title and estates. Prominent above both these excellent reasons, stood his intense distrust and dislike of the lady. Needs must, however, when the devil (by whom he understood Madeline) drives. He was not going to quarrel with his only brother and presumptive heir because he chose to marry a woman who was not to his taste. So he shrugged his shoulders—having finished his shaving and his reflections together—and determined to put the best possible face on his disappointment. “Well, George,” he said to his brother at breakfast, “so you are going to marry Lady Croston?” Bottles looked up surprised. “Yes, Eustace,” he answered, “if she will marry me.” Sir Eustace glanced at him. “I thought the affair was settled,” he said. Bottles rubbed his big nose reflectively as he answered, “Well, no. I don’t think that marriage was mentioned. But I suppose she means to marry me. In short, I don’t see how she could mean anything else.” Sir Eustace breathed more freely, guessing what had taken place. So there was as yet no actual engagement. “When are you going to see her again?” “To-morrow. She is engaged all to-day.”