“The Thornleighs!” said Clare; and she made a rapid feminine calculation, and decided that though it was very sudden it must be Gussy, and that a new mistress to Arden was inevitable. It did not strike her so painfully as it might have done, in the tumult of her personal thoughts. “Everything will be strange to you,” she said. “And then you are so fond of the country, and have to make acquaintance with everything. Don’t you think, Edgar--_that_ might wait?” “What might wait?” said Edgar, laughing; but he kept firm to his proposal. “Yes, I must go as soon as it is practicable,” he said to Arthur when they were alone. “I have got to make acquaintance with my own country. I don’t know London any more than I know Constantinople; I have been in it, and gazed at it, but that is all. And Newmarch is a very sensible fellow,” he added, abruptly. “By the way, Arden, what do you say to coming with me? You might share my rooms. If you have not any pressing engagements----” “I have nothing at all to do,” said Arthur. “Of course, I should rather have stayed here. I need not tell you that, after all I have told you. Arden is to me the most captivating place in England. But if you are going, of course I must go too.” And he sighed a profound sigh. “Of course,” said Edgar, with quiet calmness; and then there was an uncomfortable pause. “That is what I object to,” said Arthur Arden; “You give me to understand you won’t interfere, and then you as good as turn me out of the house by going away yourself. By Jove! I believe that is the reason why----” “If you think I am to give up all control over my movements because you happen to be in the house----” said Edgar, with a laugh. “No, Arden, that will never do. And I never said I would not interfere. It might be my duty. I am Clare’s brother, and the head of the house.” “Clare can take care of herself, and so can the house. Fancy _you_----” “I am all it has for a head,” said Edgar, keeping his temper with an effort. “But this is very unprofitable sort of talk.” And then there was a gloomy pause, all conversation being arrested. Arthur Arden had been making, he thought, considerable progress with Clare, which was a thing that made Clare’s brother much less important. She and Old Arden seemed almost within reach of his hand, and what should he care for the Hall and the Squire if he were Mr. Arden of Old Arden, with a beautiful wife? But to be thus sent away at the most critical moment! Arthur was sullen, and did not think it worth his while to conceal it. He asked himself, Should he risk the final effort--should he put it to the test, and know at once what his fortune was to be? in which case he might scorn the spurious Arden and all his efforts; or should he be wary, and flatter him, and wait?