my old chief, Colonel Pryke, at Warham Court,
and I'm only here for a few days."

"But you are coming to my dinner-party?" said Mrs. Tempest.

"That is a pleasure I cannot deny myself."

"And you will come and see our church and schools?" said Mrs. Scobel.

"I shall be more than pleased. I passed your pretty little church, I
think, on my way here. There was a tin tea-ket--a bell ringing----"

"For vespers," exclaimed Mrs. Scobel.

The exploration of the house took a long time, conducted in this
somewhat desultory and dawdling manner; but the closing in of night and
the sound of the dinner-gong gave the signal for Captain Winstanley's
departure.

Mrs. Tempest would have liked to ask him to dinner; but she had an idea
that Violet might make herself objectionable, and refrained from this
exercise of hospitality. He was coming to the great dinner. He would
see her dress with the feather trimming, which was really prettier than
Worth's masterpiece, or, at any rate, newer; though it only came from
Madame Theodore, of Bruton Street. Sustained by this comforting
reflection, she parted with him quite cheerfully.

CHAPTER XIV.

"He was worthy to be loved a Lifetime."

Conrad Winstanley had come to the New Forest with his mind resolved
upon one of two things. He meant to marry Violet Tempest or her mother.
If the case was quite hopeless with the daughter, he would content
himself with winning the lesser prize; and though Vanity whispered that
there was no woman living he might not win for himself if he chose to
be sufficiently patient and persevering, instinct told him that Violet
frankly detested him.

"After all," argued Worldly Wisdom, "the alternative is not to be
despised. The widow is somewhat rococo; an old-fashioned jewel kept in
cotton-wool, and brought out on occasions to shine with a factitious
brilliancy, like old Dutch garnets backed with tinfoil; but she is
still pretty. She is ductile, amiable, and weak to a degree that
promises a husband the sovereign dominion. Why break your heart for
this fair devil of a daughter, who looks capable, if offended, of
anything in the way of revenge, from a horsewhip to slow poison? Are a
pair of brown eyes and a coronal of red gold hair worth all this wasted
passion?"

"But the daughter is the greater catch," urged Ambition. "The dowager's
jointure is well enough, and she has the Abbey House and gardens for
her life, but Violet will be sole mistress of the estate