"There you are mistaken, Miss Rawcliffe," observed Father Jerome. "Portraits of both are in existence, for I myself have seen them. But they are locked up in a closet."
"Why should they be locked up?" cried Monica.
"Probably Sir Richard does not care to see them," said her mother, sighing deeply. "But let us change the subject. We are talking on family matters that can have no interest to Mr. Atherton Legh."
Atherton would have been pleased if more had been said on the subject, but he made no remark. Constance was lost in reflection. Many strange thoughts crossed her mind.
At this juncture Jemmy Dawson interposed.
"You will be glad to learn, madam," he said to Mrs. Butler, "that my friend Atherton Legh has decided on joining the Manchester Regiment. Constance has the credit of gaining him as a recruit."
"That a young man of so much spirit as your friend should support the cause of the Stuarts cannot fail to be highly satisfactory to me, in common with every zealous Jacobite," said Mrs. Butler. "May success attend you both! But it is for you, father, to bless them—not for me."
Thus enjoined, the two young men bent reverently before the priest, who, extending his hands over them, ejaculated fervently:
"May the Lord of Hosts be with you on the day of battle, and grant you victory! May you both return in safety and claim your reward!"
To this Mrs. Butler added, with great earnestness and emotion: