"Little idiot!" observed the tender parent; and was much distempered. He said no more about it to Major Rickards; but when they all retired for the night, he undertook to show Father Francis his room, and sat in it with him a good half-hour talking about Kate. "Here's a pretty scandal," said he. "I must marry the silly girl out of hand before this gets wind, and you must help me." In a word, the result of the conference was that Kate should be publicly engaged to Neville to-morrow, and married to him as soon as her month's mourning should be over. The conduct of the affair was confided to Father Francis, as having unbounded influence with her. CHAPTER XIII. Next morning Mr. Peyton was up betimes in his character of host, and ordered the servants about, and was in high spirits; only they gave place to amazement when Griffith Gaunt came down, and played the host, and was in high spirits. Neville too watched his rival, and was puzzled at his radiancy. So breakfast passed in general mystification. Kate, who could have thrown a light, did not come down to breakfast. She was on her defence. She made her first appearance out of doors. Very early in the morning, Mr. Peyton, in his quality of master, had ordered the gardener to cut and sweep the snow off the gravel walk that went round the lawn. And on this path Miss Peyton was seen walking briskly to and fro in the frosty, but sunny air. Griffith saw her first, and ran out to bid her good morning. Her reception of him was a farce. She made him a stately courtesy for the benefit of the three faces glued against the panes, but her words were incongruous. "You wretch," said she, "don't come here. Hide about, dearest, till you see me with Father Francis. I'll raise my hand _so_ when you are to cuddle him, and fib. There, make me a low bow, and retire." He obeyed, and the whole thing looked mighty formal and ceremonious from the breakfast-room. "With your good leave, gentlemen," said Father Francis, dryly, "I will be the next to pay my respects to her." With this he opened the window and stepped out. Kate saw him, and felt very nervous. She met him with apparent delight. He bestowed his morning benediction on her, and then they walked silently side by side on the gravel; and from the dining-room window it looked like anything but what it was,--a fencing match. Father Francis was the first to break silence. He congratulated her on her good fortune, and on the advantage it might prove to the true Church. Kate waited quietly till he had quite done, and then said, "What, I may go into a convent _now_ that I can bribe the door open?" The scratch was feline, feminine, sudden, and sharp. But, alas! Father Francis only smiled at it. Though not what we call spiritually-minded, he was a man of a Christian temper. "Not with my good-will, my daughter," said he; "I am of the same mind still, and more than ever. You must marry forthwith, and rear children in the true faith."