"One of those things which he alone is capable of," interposed Marmaduke, warmly. "I will ask the ladies present to judge. Happening to meet Julius with that same side of bacon, I naturally asked him how he came to have it, and he told me the story with his usual simplicity. This it is. He was riding through Little Aston on his way home, he stopped opposite a broker's shop where an auction was going on. A side of bacon was knocked down to him, much to his astonishment, but he paid for it, threw it across his saddle, and carried it twelve miles as a present to one of his poor cottagers. The poor woman was as much shocked as Mr. Wincot, to see the young squire so equipped, but her gratitude was unbounded. I could have hugged him for it; the more so, as, with all my admiration for the simple goodness and courage of the act, I doubt whether even now I should have courage to imitate it, and certainly should never have had such an idea come unassisted into my head."
"You are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, Marmaduke," said Julius. "The thing was quite simple. I had to pay for the bacon; why should not one of my cottagers benefit by it?"
"Yes, yes; but carrying it yourself."
"I had not my servant with me. It was no trouble. As to what people thought, that never troubled me. Those who knew me knew what I was; those who knew me not did not bestow a thought about me."
Every one declared that it was an act of great kindness and philosophy; except Tom Wincot, who pronounced it vewy extwaowdinawy, and seemed to think nothing could justify such a forgetfulness of what was due to oneself. But of all present, no one was more proud, more pleased than Rose, who looked at her "dear, little, ugly man," as she called him, with fresh admiration all the evening afterwards. It was a trait to have won her heart; if, indeed, her heart had not been won before.
CHAPTER VI.
HIDDEN MEANINGS.
The subject of private theatricals was again started that evening, when all were assembled in the drawing-room; and as the conversation happened by chance to be one of those underneath which there runs a current of deep significance to certain parties, while to the apprehension of the rest there is nothing whatever meant beyond what is expressed; I shall detail some portions of it.
But first to dispose of the scene, as it is rather crowded. In the right-hand corner there is a rubber of whist played between Meredith Vyner and Mrs. Broughton, against Sir Harry Johnstone and Mrs. St. John.
Seated on the music-stool is Rose, who has just ceased playing, and by her stands Julius, who, having turned over her leaves, is now talking to her.