his home at
last? But you malign yourself, my dear Rupert. I believe 'tis but
excess of joy that ties your tongue."

With gleaming smile Mr. Landale would have opposed this direct thrust
by some parry of polished insult; but he met his elder's commanding
glance, remembered his parting words on two previous occasions, and
wisely abstained, contenting himself with another slight bow and a
contemptuous shrug of the shoulders.

At the same time Miss O'Donoghue, with an odd mixture of farcically
pretended astonishment and genuine triumph, fell on the girl's neck.

"It is possible, soul of my heart, my sweet child--I can't believe
it--though I vow I knew it all along! So I am to see my two favourites
made one by holy matrimony!" punctuating her exclamation with kisses
on the fair young face, and wildly seeking in space with her dried-up
old fingers to meet Adrian's hand. "I, the one barren stock of the
O'Donoghues, shall see my sister's children re-united. Ah, Adrian,
what a beautiful coat this will make for you to hand to your children!
O'Donoghue, Landale, Kermelegan, Savenaye--eighteen quarters with this
heiress alone, Adrian child, for the descendants of Landale of
Pulwick!" And Miss O'Donoghue, overcome by this culminating vision of
happiness and perfection, fairly burst into tears.

In the midst of this scene, Mr. Landale, after listening mockingly for
a few instants, retired with ostentatious discretion.

Later in the day, as Madeleine bent her pretty ears, dutifully yet
with wandering attention, to Molly's gay prognostications concerning
Pulwick under her sway; whilst the servants in the hall, pantry and
kitchen discussed the great news which, by some incomprehensible
agency, spread with torrent-like swiftness through the whole estate;
while Miss O'Donoghue was feverishly busy with the correspondence
which was to disseminate far and wide the world's knowledge of the
happy betrothal, Sir Adrian met his brother walking meditatively along
the winding path of the garden, flicking with the loop of his crop the
border of evergreens as he went. From their room, Molly and Madeleine,
ensconced in the deep window-seat, could see the meeting.

"How I should like to hear," said Molly. "I know this supple wretch
will be full of Adrian's folly in marrying me--first, because, from
the Rupertian point of view, it is a disastrous thing that his elder
should marry at all; and secondly, because Molly, mistress at Pulwick
Priory,