At five in the afternoon Lacey came to me--in a state of the greatest agitation. He just strode in, without asking any leave, and plumped himself down by my hearthstone. His eyes were very bright, his hands and legs seemed quite unable to keep still. Obviously something decisive had happened. "I've done it, Austin!" he said. "I never thought I should be so happy in my life--and I never thought I should feel such a beast either." "Congratulations! And explanations? It sounds a curious frame of mind." "Margaret's accepted me--and I'm on my way to Fillingford to tell my father. Miss Driver insisted on my doing it at once--said it was the only square thing. Otherwise--By Jove, I'd rather charge a battery!" He got up and began to walk about the room; its dimensions were far too small, whether for his long legs or for his explosive state of mind. "By gad, Austin, you should have seen how she looked!" "Miss Driver?" "No, no, man, Margaret. I was awfully doubtful--well, a fellow doesn't want to talk about his feelings nor about--about what happens on that sort of occasion, you know. Only if it hadn't been for Miss Driver, I couldn't have bucked myself up to it, you know. Taking away her friend--leaving her all alone again, too!" he paused a moment. "I tell you I did think of that," he added rather vehemently. "Most men wouldn't have thought about that at all--perhaps oughtn't to have." "Ah, but then what she is to both of us! Well, it went right, Austin, it went right, by Jove!" His voice was exalted to the skies of triumph. In an instant it dropped to the pit of dismay. "And now I've got to tell the governor!" "All this has happened thousands of times before," I ventured to remark urbanely, as I filled my pipe and watched his restless striding up and down. That brought him to a stand--and cooled him into the bargain. "Not quite," he said. "Not quite, Austin." His voice had become more quiet. "You must see that there are elements in this case which--which make it a bit different? My father's been a good friend to me. Things aren't very flourishing with us, as I daresay you know. But I've always had everything--and I've spent all I had, too. The election was a squeeze for him; of course he wouldn't let me take any subscription--it was the honor of the family. He thought of putting things straight himself once--you know how. He'd sooner die than do that now. I'm doing what's pretty nearly as bad to his thinking--and not putting things straight at all! I daresay you don't sympathize with all this, but I've been brought up to think that there's such a thing as loyalty to the family--and not to be ashamed of it. Well, I've cut all that adrift. I couldn't help it. But I don't know whether we can go on. It may mean"--he threw out his hands--"a general break-up!" "But you're set on it?" I asked. "Isn't it a good deal too late to talk about that? When I've tried to make her love me--and--and she does?"