On hearing that it was Mr. George Austin, whose presence in the house was forbidden, Mrs. Arundel rose solemnly and awfully, and walked down the stairs. She had a clear duty before her. When she threw open the door, the lovers were hand in hand dancing round the room laughing--but the tears were running down Elsie's cheeks. 'Elsie,' said her mother, standing at the open door, 'perhaps you can explain this.' 'Permit me to explain,' said George. 'This gentleman, Elsie, has been forbidden the house.' 'One moment,' he began. 'Go, sir.' She pointed majestically to the window. 'Oh!' cried Elsie. 'Tell her, George--tell her; I cannot.' She fell to laughing and crying together, but still held her lover by the hand. 'I will have no communication whatever with one who robs me of a daughter,' said this Roman matron. 'Will you once more leave the house, sir?' 'Mother--you _must_ hear him.' 'Nothing,' said Mrs. Arundel, 'will ever induce me to speak to him--nothing.' 'Mother, don't be silly,' Elsie cried; 'you don't know what has happened. You _must_ not say such things. You will only be sorry for them afterwards.' 'Never--never. One may forgive such a man, but one can never speak to him, never--whatever happens--never.' The lady looked almost heroic as she waved her right hand in the direction of the man. 'I will go,' said George, 'but not till you have heard me. I am rich--Elsie is rich--we shall not marry into poverty. The whole situation is entirely changed.' 'Changed,' Elsie repeated, taking George's arm. * * * * * 'My dear George,' said Mrs. Arundel, when she had heard the whole story--and by cross examination persuaded herself that it was true--'you know on what a just basis my objections were founded. Otherwise, I should have been delighted at the outset.--Kiss me, Elsie.--You have my full consent, children. These remarkable events are Providential.--On Mr. Dering's death or retirement, you will step into an enormous practice. Follow his example. Take no partner till old age compels you. Keep all the profits for yourself--all.--My dear George, you should be a very happy man. Not so rich, perhaps, as my son-in-law, Sir Samuel, but above the ordinary run of common happiness. As for the past---- We will now go down to lunch.--There is the bell. These emotions are fatiguing.' CHAPTER VIII IN HONOUR OF THE EVENT