"It was a most unfortunate affair, my lord." "I don't know that either. Pity young Linnell couldn't shoot and pop off that scoundrel Rockley. By the way, he looked daggers at me for getting your boy appointed to his regiment; but the boy shan't disgrace the corps, if I find him money myself." Denville paused where they stood upon the Downs and gazed wonderingly at the old Earl. "I make you stare, Denville. Well, I'll be frank with you, and you shall be frank with me." The MC bowed and wiped his streaming face. "Of course she does not care for Rockley." "Good heavens, my lord; no!" "Nor for young Linnell?" The MC hemmed twice before he spoke. "I, too, will be frank with you, my lord," he said. "It was in dead opposition to my wishes, but I'm afraid there was something between my daughter and Mr Richard Linnell." Lord Carboro' looked at the speaker searchingly. "It was an unspoken attachment, my lord, nothing more; and since that terrible event at my house--I am obliged to name it," he said, with quivering lip--"whatever intimacy existed has been broken off." "Humph! Sure, Denville?" "I have my daughter's word, my lord. That duel set me thinking; and like another father, my lord, of whom we read, I bespoke her roundly." "Oh! come, Denville, don't compare yourself to Polonius, man. He--he-- he!" "Only to that extent, my lord. As I say, I spoke to her, and she assured me that there was nothing whatever between her and Mr Linnell, but gratitude towards a gentleman who saved her from insult." "Denville, that Mellersh is his friend; he ought to have shown the boy how to shoot the scoundrel." The MC was trembling with excitement. He was between hope and dread, for he could not but divine what was coming, and in spite of the glittering future it held up to his view he shrank from it with fear. Volume Two, Chapter X. AN ELDERLY SUITOR. "Gratitude, eh?" said Lord Carboro' suddenly. "Yes, my lord," said the MC, who was perspiring profusely. "Deuced dangerous thing, Denville. Are you sure?" "My lord, I have my child's word, and that is sacred." "Hah!" ejaculated Lord Carboro', "you are right. Bless her! she is as sweet and true as she is beautiful. She stands alone here in her youthful dignity. Damme, Denville, I always look upon her as some beautiful Greek goddess, and I would have sooner gone to her funeral than seen that _roue_ Rockley win her. I would, damme." "My lord, so would I," said Denville huskily. "And you would sooner go to her funeral than see her my wife, eh?" said the old beau abruptly. "My lord, I did not say so." "Nor think it?"