is it not? Notice my brother's
determination to die unmarried and to retire, once for all, from all
or any of the possible honours connected with his position!"

They had all clustered in front of the picture; even Madeleine roused
from her sweet day-dreams to some show of curiosity; Miss Landale's
bosom, heaving with such sighs as to make the tombstone rise and fall
like a ship upon a stormy sea; Molly with an eagerness she did not
attempt to hide; and Miss O'Donoghue still speechless with horror and
indignation.

Mr. Landale had gauged his aunt's temperament correctly enough. To one
whose ruling passion was pride of family, this mockery of a
consecrated family custom, this heirloom destined to carry down a
record of degradation into future generations, was an insult to the
name only to be explained to her first indignation by deliberate
malice--or insanity.

And from the breezy background of blue sky and sea, contrasting as
strangely with the dark solemnity of the other portraits as did the
figure itself in its incongruous sailor dress, the face of the eighth
baronet looked down in melancholy gravity upon the group gathered in
judgment upon him.

"Disgraceful! Positively disgraceful!" at length cried the last
representative of the O'Donoghues of Bunratty, in scandalised tones.
"My dear Rupert, you should have a curtain put up, that this
exhibition of folly--of madness, I hardly know what to call it--be not
exposed to every casual visitor. Dear me, dear me, that I should live
to see any of my kin deliberately throw discredit on his family, if
indeed the poor fellow is responsible! Rupert, my good soul, can you
ascribe any reason for this terrible state of affairs ... that blow on
the head?"

"In part perhaps," said Mr. Landale. "And yet there have been other
causes at work. If I could have a private word in your ear," glancing
meaningly over his shoulder at the two young girls who were both
listening, though with very different expressions of interest and
favour, "I could give you my opinion more fully."

"Go away now, my dear creatures," hereupon said Miss O'Donoghue,
promptly addressing her nieces. "It is a fine morning, and you will
lose your roses if you don't get the air. I don't care if it has begun
to rain, miss! Go and have a game of battledore and shuttlecock then.
Young people _must_ have exercise. Well, my dear Rupert, well!"--when
Molly, with a pettish "battledore and shuttlecock indeed!" had taken