t think he ever does
drink champagne," said Lady Eardham, talking it all over with Gus on
the morning of the picnic.

At Cookham there is, or was, a punt,--perhaps there always will be
one, kept there for such purposes;--and into this punt either Gus was
tempted by Ralph, or Ralph by Gus. "My darling child, what are you
doing?" shouted Lady Eardham from the bank.

"Mr. Newton says he can take me over," said Gus, standing up in the
punt, shaking herself with a pretty tremor.

"Don't, Mr. Newton; pray don't!" cried Lady Eardham, with affected
horror.

Lunch was over, or dinner, as it might be more properly called, and
Ralph had taken a glass or two of champagne. He was a man whom no one
had ever seen the "worse for wine;" but on this occasion that which
might have made others drunk had made him bold. "I will not let you
out, Gus, till you have promised me one thing," said Ralph.

"What is the one thing?"

"That you will go with me everywhere, always."

"You must let me out," said Gus.

"But will you promise?" Then Gus promised; and Lady Eardham, with
true triumph in her voice, was able to tell her husband on the
following morning that the cost of the picnic had not been thrown
away.

On the next morning early Ralph was in the square. Neither when
he went to bed at night, nor when he got up in the morning, did
he regret what he had done. The marriage would be quite a proper
marriage. Nobody could say that he had been mercenary, and he hated a
mercenary feeling in marriages. Nobody could say that the match was
beneath him, and all people were agreed that Augusta Eardham was a
very fine girl. As to her style, there could be no doubt about it.
There might be some little unpleasantness in communicating the fact
to the Underwoods,--but that could be done by letter. After all, it
would signify very little to him what Sir Thomas thought about him.
Sir Thomas might think him feeble; but he himself knew very well that
there had been no feebleness in it. His circumstances had been very
peculiar, and he really believed that he had made the best of them.
As Squire of Newton, he was doing quite the proper thing in marrying
the daughter of a baronet out of the next county. With a light heart,
a pleased face, and with very well got-up morning apparel, Ralph
knocked the next morning at the door in Cavendish Square, and asked
for Sir George Eardham. "I'll just run up-stairs for a second," said
Ralph, when he was told that Sir