In the course of the day she took an opportunity of informing Sir Gilbert of the engagement of Ethel Thursby and Everard Lisle. That the news afforded him genuine pleasure could not be doubted. “So I shall not lose my little girl after all!” he said. “That is indeed something worth hearing. She has become very dear to me, Louisa; I may tell you so now; and I should have felt the loss of her more, perhaps, than the occasion would have seemed to warrant, for she has contrived to steal her way into my affections in a quite unaccountable fashion. My old age is the sweeter for her presence. I am very glad that I am not to lose her.” “I shall make it my business to furnish her trousseau.” “And you may rely upon it that she shall not go to her husband without a _cadeau_ from me. I suppose she will have no dowry?” “Not a shilling, so far as I am aware. She is an orphan and was brought up by two maiden aunts who, till a little while ago, were quite comfortably off. Now, however, they have only just enough left to live upon.” “In that case I must see what I can do by way of increasing Lisle’s salary. Of course when anything happens to poor Kinaby, Lisle will at once step into his shoes. The furniture which is now at Maylings may as well be transferred to Elm Lodge for the young couple’s use. They will make a well-matched pair, Louisa. As you know, I hold Lisle in very high regard, not merely because he happens to be the son of the man who saved my life, but by reason of his own fine qualities. How wide is the difference between him and young Rispani!” Later in the day he took occasion to congratulate both the young folk, with the old-fashioned courtesy which became him so well, nor did he fail at dinner to drink to their health and happiness in a bumper of the rare old Madeira which was reserved for very special occasions. It was evident to everyone that the Baronet was in high good-humour, and that for the time at least he had succeeded in throwing off the gloom to which late events seemed to have hopelessly condemned him. It was not till the second day after Sir Gilbert’s visit to the Tower that Martin Rigg and his daughter got back home. Within an hour of his return he was summoned to proceed at once to the Chase, where Sir Gilbert received him in his study. Scarcely had he limped slowly into the room before Sir Gilbert, turning quickly upon him with bent brows and an assumption of his most minatory manner, said: “Rigg, how many days ago is it since you last saw my son, Mr. John Alexander Clare?”