“That is well,” answered Sir Parke, coolly, and in no degree revealing that a great burden of anxiety had been lifted from his mind. Lady Morelle’s countenance resumed its slightly discomposed serenity. “But it is only fair to inform the parents of Estelle, that when the decision of the Arches’ Court is rendered, I shall become a candidate for her hand. Until that time, I am forbidden, of all, to seek her.” Sir Parke bent his head. “You are right, my lord,” he said. Lady Morelle now, also, for the first time, entered into the conversation, by saying— “You informed us that Estelle was living in retirement, in some part of Maryland. Will you please to designate more exactly the place of her residence?” “I cannot do so, Madam, since I am not advised of it. Had I been so, it is probable that I should not now be sitting among you.” “Your information, then, is not very precise or satisfactory.” “It is satisfactory, so far as it goes, Madam; though I admit it is not very precise. Permit me to explain;”—and Lord Montressor here related the circumstances of his acquaintance with Barbara Brande, together with the conversations he had held with her upon the subject of Estelle. “But is this reliable? Is not Estelle the last woman in the world, even in her extremity, to make a confidante of such a she-savage?” inquired Sir Parke. “Have I, then, been so unjust or incompetent as to give you _that_ idea of Miss Brande?—a heroic Christian woman, if ever I saw one!” exclaimed Lord Montressor, warmly. “A female sailor, at best. But let that pass, Montressor, since you are her apologist. Here comes John from the steward’s room.” The footman now indeed appeared and announced— “The tenants are all arrived, Sir Parke.” “Well!” said the baronet, rising with a dissatisfied air—“I suppose we must show ourselves to them—I suppose they came pouring in hither from the church, eh, John?” “Church is just out, sir, and they have just dropped in to Mr. Thompson’s room, to wish your honor a merry Christmas.” “And to drink a pipe of wine!—very good! Lady Morelle, will you go with me?” “I thank you, no, Sir Parke,” said her ladyship, shrugging her graceful shoulders at the thought of meeting the heterogeneous company below. “And you, Montressor?” “I will attend you with pleasure, Sir Parke.” “Come, then! It is an old custom, to treat our tenants on Christmas day; and though I would have well dispensed with their company upon this occasion, and though nothing was said about their coming, you see they have not forgotten it,” said the baronet, as they left the room. “A time-honored custom, worthy to be observed, Sir Parke! and I hope indeed that my bailiff at Montressor is not forgetting my children there, at this present time,” replied the young peer, who was indeed the patriarch of his own tenants and dependants. “By the way, can you tell me why Dazzleright has not made his appearance?” “He will be down by the noon train, Sir Parke.”