"Well, I'm sure! The young women of the present day fly in a passion if you venture to say an unpleasant word to them. The world is moving on at a nice pace, upon my word. I wonder what the children of the rising generation will be like, and how _they'll_ treat their mothers and aunts. I suppose they'll take the story of the Grecian daughter out of _those_ children's story-books, and supply its place with 'The Obedient Father,' or 'The Dutiful Grandmother,' or 'Parental Submission,' or something of that kind. You may go to bed, Lady Cecil; and since you are bent upon ending your days as an indoor pauper, you must go your own way, and I wash my hands of all responsibility." The dowager carried matters with a high hand, but Cecil had vanquished her nevertheless; and though Mr. O'Boyneville had left Nasedale before the family met at the breakfast-table, Mrs. MacClaverhouse forbore to bewail his departure in her niece's presence. He had gone; but when his circuit work was over he came back again, and made himself a favourite with all the household. He had his own little study, and he had some of the judge's law-books carried thither for his use. He spent three or four hours every morning in hard work; and for the rest of the day was the life of the party, talking, arguing, disputing, putting down listless visitors, and laughing his great haw-haw laugh at their discomfiture; cross-examining pretentious talkers, and bringing them to shame; flattering frivolous matrons, expounding great political theories with much flourishing of his white hands, delighting the Anglo-Indian judge by respectful attention to his anecdotes, offending and pleasing people a hundred times a day, and making himself the principal figure in every group, his voice the ruling voice in every discussion. And in all this time Lady Cecil had no reason to complain of his presence. He was true to the quiet tone of resignation with which he had received her reproof on the first night of his coming to Nasedale. If he addressed her now, it was as nearly in the ordinary tone of polite society as was possible to this rough diamond of the British law-courts. Nor did he in any special manner seek her society. Mrs. MacClaverhouse sniffed ominously as she watched the eligible bachelor's attentions to other young ladies, while Cecil sat unnoticed and apparently forgotten by her late admirer. But the dowager refrained from remonstrance, and only allowed stray allusions to the horrors of genteel pauperism, and the miserable destiny of the unprotected female, to crop up now and then in her confidential talk with her niece.