"No, Ancram. No; I hope not. I believe not."

"I am glad of that; because—the doubt would come rather too late to be of much use, would it not?"

Algernon spoke with his old bright smile; but two things were observable throughout this interview. Firstly, that Algernon, though still perfectly respectful, no longer addressed his senior with the winning, cordial deference of manner which had so captivated Lord Seely in the beginning of their acquaintance. Secondly, that Lord Seely appeared conscious of some reason in the young man's mind for dissatisfaction, and to be desirous of deprecating that dissatisfaction.

At the same time, there seemed to be in Lord Seely an undercurrent of feeling struggling for expression. He had the air of a man who, knowing himself to have right and reason on his side in the main, yet is aware of a tender point in his case which an unscrupulous adversary will not hesitate to touch, and which he nervously shrinks from having touched. He winced at Algernon's last words, and answered rather hotly, "It would be too late. Your insinuation is a just one. If I had any misgivings I ought to have expressed them, and acted on them before. But the fact is that this—the final arrangement of this marriage—took me in a great measure by surprise."

"So it did me, my lord!"

Lord Seely had been gazing moodily at the fire. He now suddenly raised his eyes and looked searchingly at Algernon. The young man's face wore an expression of candid amusement. His arched eyebrows were lifted, and he was smiling as unconcernedly as if the subject in hand touched himself no jot.

"I give you my word," he continued lightly, "that when Lady Seely first spoke to me about it, I was—oh, 'astonished' is no word to express what I felt!"

A dark red flush came into Lord Seely's withered cheeks, and mounted to his forehead. He dropped his eyes, and moved uneasily on his chair, passing one hand through the tuft of grey hair that stood up above his ear. Algernon went on, with an almost boyish frankness of manner:

"Of course, you know, I should hardly have ventured to aspire to such an idea quite unassisted. And I believe I said something or other to my lady—very stumblingly, I have no doubt, for I remember feeling very much bewildered. I said some word about my being a poor devil with nothing in the world to offer to a lady in Miss Kilfinane's position—except, of course, my undying devotion. Only one cannot live altogether on that. But Lady Seely was very sanguine, and saw no difficulties. She said it could be managed. And she was right, you see. Where there's a will, there's a way. And I am really to be married to Castalia to-morrow. It seems too good to be true!"

Lord Seely rose and faced the young man; and as he did so, his lordship looked really dignified; for the sincere feeling within him had for once obliterated his habitual uneasy self-consciousness.