she has not a poor thousand to call her own.'

'And I have no right to anything in my father's lifetime, though I have
no doubt he would give me up my share of my mother's portion--about
L3000. Now this is what has occurred to me: In the place where I found
my uncle's wife--Micklethwayte, close to Monks Horton--there's a great
umbrella factory, with agencies everywhere. There are superior people
belonging to it. I've seen some of them, and I've been talking to the
young fellow who helped us last night, who is in the office. I find
that to go into the thing with such capital as I might hope for, would
bring in a much larger and speedier return than I could hope for any
other way, if only my belongings would set aside their feelings. And
you see there are the Kirkaldys close by to secure her good society.'

Lady Ronnisglen put out her transparent-looking, black-mittened hand,
and gave a little dainty pat to his arm. 'I like to see a man in
earnest,' said she. Her little Skye terrier was seized with jealousy
at her gesture, and came nuzzling in between with his black nose. 'Mull
objects!' she said, smiling; but then, with a graver look, 'And so will
your father.'

'At first,' said Mark; 'but I think he will give way when he has had
time to look at the matter, and sees how good you are. That will make
all the difference.'

So Annaple, who had been banished for a little while, was allowed to
return, and mother, daughter, and lover built themselves a little
castle of umbrellas, and bestowed a little arch commiseration on poor
Lady Delmar; who, it was agreed, need know nothing until something
definite was arranged, since Annaple was clearly accountable to no one
except her mother. She would certainly think the latter part of her
dream only too well realised, and consider that an unfair advantage had
been taken of her seclusion in her own room. In spite of all loyal
efforts to the contrary, Mark, if he had been in a frame of mind to
draw conclusions, would have perceived that the prospect of escaping
from the beneficent rule of Lescombe was by no means unpleasant to Lady
Ronnisglen. The books that lay within her reach would hardly have
found a welcome anywhere else in the house. Sir John was not
brilliant, and his wife had turned her native wits to the practical
rather than the intellectual line, and had quite enough to think of in
keeping up the dignities of Lescombe with a large family amid
agricultural diffi