"By all means." It was Mary's sweet, gentle voice that answered. "I am sure I should like to keep very good news to myself for a time; hug it as it were. After dinner, Guy!" Later on, they went into the dining-room. The meal was a somewhat tedious and long repast. Lord Saxham, who was a bit of a gourmet, liked to take a small portion of several dishes. Guy was a hearty trencherman. Poor Lady Mary, whose thoughts inclined towards a convent, would have been satisfied with a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter, but she had to preside over these prolonged meals. When the ponderous banquet--no lesser word could describe it--had drawn to a close, the footman withdrew. It was a family party, the two men sat round the table and smoked. Lady Mary waited to hear the great news. And then Guy unburthened himself. "The biggest stroke of luck in the world, sir. After fooling about in the Foreign Office for all these years, Greatorex sent for me to go into his private room. A very short interview: Greatorex doesn't waste words. I am to go to the Embassy at Madrid." Lady Mary preserved her sweet calm. The Earl did not move an eyelid. He lifted his glass of port. "Success to you, my boy. You have got a chance now. And I am sure you will make good." The young man drained his glass also. "Yes, I think I shall make good. What I just wanted was a chance." Mary shot a warning glance at her father. It was just on the cards that he might have blurted out something that would have hurt his son's pride, led him to understand that it was his father's secret influence that had got him this post. But, fortunately, at this stage the Earl's mental faculties were not very acute. He was already beginning to nod over his port. A few moments later, Lord Saxham's somnolent faculties became more fully developed. Mary pointed to the terrace which was approached by the dining-room windows. She leaned across the table and whispered. "Shall we take a stroll? I would like to talk all this over with you." Guy nodded and rose. They went noiselessly to the terrace, and sat down on one of the numerous seats, overlooking the lovely gardens beneath. Mary opened the conversation at once. "Is this--this good news--going to make any difference to you, Guy?" There was just a note of anxiety in her voice. Guy looked at her squarely. "What do you mean, Mary? Difference in what way?" "Difference between you and Isobel?" answered Mary, in a voice that shook a little. "You love each other so dearly. I would hate to think that anything could come between you." Guy laughed his hearty, boyish laugh. "Dear old girl, you know I have always told the truth to you. I would sooner go to the devil with Isobel Clandon, than to heaven with some delightful bride that our dear old dad had chosen for me. As soon as I am on my feet, Isobel will be my wife." Mary patted his hand affectionately.