into his master's confidence concerning the plan which had first been
proposed in jest, and afterwards adopted in earnest.

The family must leave Dunleigh Castle for a period of probably eight or
ten years, and seek some part of the world where their expenses could be
reduced to the lowest possible figure. In Germany or Italy there would
be the annoyance of a foreign race and language, of meeting of tourists
belonging to the circle in which they had moved, a dangerous idleness
for their sons, and embarrassing restrictions for their daughters. On
the other hand, the suggestion to emigrate to America and become Quakers
during their exile offered more advantages the more they considered it.
It was original in character; it offered them economy, seclusion,
entire liberty of action inside the limits of the sect, the best
moral atmosphere for their children, and an occupation which would not
deteriorate what was best in their blood and breeding.

How Lord Dunleigh obtained admission into the sect as plain Henry
Donnelly is a matter of conjecture with the Londongrove Friends. The
deception which had been practised upon them--although it was perhaps
less complete than they imagined--left a soreness of feeling behind
it. The matter was hushed up after the departure of the family, and one
might now live for years in the neighborhood without hearing the story.
How the shrewd plan was carried out by Lord Dunleigh and his family,
we have already learned. O'Neil, left on the estate, in the north of
Ireland, did his part with equal fidelity. He not only filled up the
gaps made by his master's early profuseness, but found means to move the
sympathies of a cousin of the latter--a rich, eccentric old bachelor,
who had long been estranged by a family quarrel. To this cousin he
finally confided the character of the exile, and at a lucky time; for
the cousin's will was altered in Lord Dunleigh's favor, and he died
before his mood of reconciliation passed away. Now, the estate was not
only unencumbered, but there was a handsome surplus in the hands of the
Dublin bankers. The family might return whenever they chose, and there
would be a festival to welcome them, O'Neil said, such as Dunleigh
Castle had never known since its foundations were laid.

"Let us go at once!" said Sylvia, when he had concluded his tale. "No
more masquerading,--I never knew until to-day how much I have hated it!
I will not say that your plan was not a sensible one,