Mr. Goddard accepted the invitation gladly. The smell of Jimmy O’Loughlin’s bacon and eggs had whetted his appetite. He was conducted to the dining-room by Wilkins, and found Lord Manton seated by himself at the end of a large table. The dining-room in Clonmore Castle is a spacious and well-proportioned apartment. A tradition exists that in the time of Lord Manton’s father, on the occasion of a county election, fifty gentlemen once sat down in it together at dinner. In those days, no doubt, people did not object to being crowded. But even to-day thirty people could very comfortably have dined in the room, and there would still have been space for the servants to make their way about. It was the largest room in the Castle, and its present proprietor looked singularly small, even insignificant, seated alone in the middle of it. Lord Manton greeted his guest cheerfully. “Good morning, Mr. Goddard. This is an early visit. Have you by any chance come across the body of Dr. O’Grady? Won’t you help yourself to something to eat? You’ll find whatever there is on the side table.” Mr. Goddard secured a kidney and some bacon. “No,” he said; “there’s no news of Dr. O’Grady.” “Have you got engaged to be married to Miss Blow?” said Lord Manton. “That’s the way this business will end, I expect. That young woman came over here for a husband, and now that the doctor has bolted there is only you or me for her to choose. So far as I can see at present, she seems to prefer you. I’m very glad she does. In fact, I’m keeping out of her way as much as I can.” “So am I; but it’s rather difficult.” “I suppose it is. I hear that she went the whole way over to Ballymoy after you last night; walked every step of it. I’m surprised that you escaped her after that. How did you manage it? I should have thought you could hardly have refused to marry her without being actually rude. But perhaps that story is only gossip.” “It’s quite true,” said Mr. Goddard. “But, Lord Manton, I came up here this morning to speak to you about--the fact is, I am in a serious difficulty.” “You are. I can scarcely imagine anything more serious.” “I wanted,” said Mr. Goddard, “to ask your advice about----” “You shall have it. Give in and marry her at once with a good grace. That’s my advice. After all, you might do a great deal worse. She’s a very good-looking girl, and by her own account she’ll have some money. It’s far better for you to pretend you like it. It’s no earthly use your trying to escape if her mind is made up. Your plan of dodging up and down between Clonmore and Ballymoy can’t be kept up for ever. Sooner or later she’ll overtake you in one place or the other; or else she’ll meet you on the road between the two, where you’ll be quite at her mercy.” “I dare say you’re right,” said Mr. Goddard. “But it’s not about Miss Blow that I want to consult you this morning. Did you hear about the Members of Parliament?”