tace and his brother carried out their programme. They dined
together, and about half-past nine drove round to Grosvenor Street.
Here they were shown into the drawing-room by the solemn footman, who
informed Sir Eustace that her ladyship was upstairs in the nursery and
had left a message for him that she would be down presently.

"All right; there is no hurry," said Sir Eustace absently, and the man
went downstairs.

Bottles, being nervous, was fidgeting round the room as usual, and his
brother, being very much at ease, was standing with his back to the
fire, and staring about him. Presently his glance lit upon the blue
velvet curtains which shut off the room they were in from the larger
saloon that had not been used since Lady Croston's widowhood, and an
idea which had been floating about in his brain suddenly took definite
shape and form. He was a prompt man, and in another second he had acted
up to that idea.

"George," he said in a quick, low voice, "listen to me, and for Heaven's
sake don't interrupt for a minute. You know that I do not like the idea
of your marrying Lady Croston. You know that I think her worthless--no,
wait a minute, don't interrupt--I am only saying what I think. You
believe in her; you believe that she is in love with you and will marry
you, and have good reason to believe it, have you not?"

Bottles nodded.

"Very well. Supposing that I can show you within half an hour that she
is perfectly ready to marry somebody else--myself, for instance--would
you still believe in her?"

Bottles turned pale. "The thing is impossible," he said.

"That is not the question. Would you still believe in her, and would you
still marry her?"

"Great heavens! no."

"Good. Then I tell you what I will do for you, and it will perhaps
give you some idea of how deeply I feel in the matter; I will sacrifice
myself."

"Sacrifice yourself?"

"Yes. I mean that I will this very evening propose to Madeline Croston
under your nose, and I bet you five pounds she accepts me."

"Impossible," said Bottles again. "Besides, if she did you don't want to
marry her."

"Marry her! No, indeed. _I_ am not mad. I shall have to get out of the
scrape as best I can--always supposing my view of the lady is correct."

"Excuse me," said Bottles with a gasp, "but I must ask you--in short,
have _you_ ever been on affectionate terms with Madeline?"

"Never, on my honour."

"And yet you think she will marry you if you ask her, e