at her as if he had lost a battle by the turn of events at the
final moment.

Mr. Romfrey handed Cecilia into the carriage. He exchanged a friendly
squeeze with the colonel, and offered his hand to his nephew. Beauchamp
passed him with a nod and 'Good-bye, sir.'

'Have ready at Holdesbury for the middle of the month,' said Mr.
Romfrey, unruffled, and bowed to Cecilia.

'If you think of bringing my cousin Baskelett, give me warning, sir,'
cried Beauchamp.

'Give me warning, if you want the house for Shrapnel,' replied his
uncle, and remarked to Rosamund, as the carriage wheeled round the
mounded laurels to the avenue, 'He mayn't be quite cracked. The fellow
seems to have a turn for catching his opportunity by the tail. He had
better hold fast, for it's his last.'

CHAPTER XXXVII. CECILIA CONQUERED

The carriage rolled out of the avenue and through the park, for some
time parallel with the wavy downs. Once away from Steynham Colonel
Halkett breathed freely, as if he had dropped a load: he was free of his
bond to Mr. Romfrey, and so great was the sense of relief in him that he
resolved to do battle against his daughter, supposing her still lively
blush to be the sign of the enemy's flag run up on a surrendered
citadel. His authority was now to be thought of: his paternal sanction
was in his own keeping. Beautiful as she looked, it was hardly credible
that a fellow in possession of his reason could have let slip his chance
of such a prize; but whether he had or had not, the colonel felt that
he occupied a position enabling him either to out-manoeuvre, or, if need
were, interpose forcibly and punish him for his half-heartedness.

Cecilia looked the loveliest of women to Beauchamp's eyes, with her
blush, and the letters of Dr. Shrapnel in her custody, at her express
desire. Certain terms in the letters here and there, unsweet to ladies,
began to trouble his mind.

'By the way, colonel,' he said, 'you had a letter of Dr. Shrapnel's read
to you by Captain Baskelett.'

'Iniquitous rubbish!'

'With his comments on it, I dare say you thought it so. I won't speak of
his right to make it public. He wanted to produce his impressions of it
and me, and that is a matter between him and me. Dr. Shrapnel makes
use of strong words now and then, but I undertake to produce a totally
different impression on you by reading the letter myself--sparing you'
(he turned to Cecilia) 'a word or two, common enough to men who write
i