It was not perhaps a very elegant joke, and the ladies took no notice of it save by alarmed mutual glances between themselves. But Frogmore—the refined and polite little old gentleman; Frogmore, with his old-fashioned superiority in manners; Frogmore—laughed! There was no doubt of it—laughed and chuckled with satisfaction.

“Well,” he said, “such things can’t be helped. It’s best in all circumstances not to count one’s eggs before—— My brother John’s family were, perhaps, what we may call a little cocksure.”

“I don’t know much about your brother,” said Ralph. “But, lord, I shouldn’t like to come in Tisch’s way when she knows. Oh, she knows, does she? I’d just like to see her face when she reads it in the papers. Tisch is a fine one for pushing on in the world, but when she’s roused——”

“Ralph,” said Mrs. Hill, “you might be better employed than speaking against your sister. She has been very kind to Mary; and Lord Frogmore would never have met my daughter at all if it had not been in her house.”

“That was all the worse for me perhaps, Mrs. Hill,” said Ralph.

“You are quite right, my dear lady,” said Lord Frogmore. “We have all I am sure the greatest respect for Mrs. John. She has made my brother an excellent wife, and she has put me in the way of acquiring for myself a similar blessing.” He made this little speech in his precise way, quite concluding the argument, and even quieting Ralph in a manner which much impressed the ladies. But the big bushman shook his head and his beard as he went away. “That’s all very well,” he said, “but if Tisch has ever a chance to come in with a back-hander—” He went off continuing to shake his head all the way.

Fortunately, Mary did not notice this, being diverted by the perplexity and embarrassment caused by Ralph’s “leggy” gift, what to do with it, how to find accommodation for it in the little stable at the vicarage, already occupied by an old and self-opinionated pony, very impatient of being interfered with. But Mrs. Hill and Agnes shook their heads too behind the bride’s back. If Tisch ever had it in her power to do an ill-turn to Mary! Even all the excitement of the wedding preparations could not banish this thought from Mrs. Hill’s mind. She impressed upon her other daughter the oft-repeated lesson that there is no light without an accompanying shadow. “In the course of nature,” said the vicar’s wife, “poor Mary will be left a widow to struggle for herself. It is true that the settlement is all we could desire—but if Tisch is at the back of it, her husband being the heir, how can we know what may happen—and your father an old man, and me with so little experience in the ways of the world——”

“But, mother,” said Agnes, with hesitation, “Mary is not so old, she is only two years older than I am. She may have——”

“Oh, my dear! Heaven forbid there should be any family!” cried Mrs. Hill lifting up her hands and eyes.

CHAPTER XIX.