ause I did not sit and
hear him read the sermons. Let that pass. I may have been wrong in that,
and he may be justified; but because of that he cannot believe really
that I have been a liar,--a liar in such a determined way as to make me
unfit to be his heir."

"He is a fool, Harry! That is the worst of him."

"I don't think it is the worst."

"You cannot have worse. It is dreadful to have to depend on a fool,--to
have to trust to a man who cannot tell wrong from right. Your uncle
intends to be a good man. If it were brought home to him that he were
doing a wrong he would not do it. He would not rob; he would not steal;
he must not commit murder, and the rest of it. But he is a fool, and he
does not know when he is doing these things."

"I will wash my hands of him."

"Yes; and he will wash his hands of you. You do not know him as I do. He
has taken it into his silly head that you are the chief of sinners
because you said what was not true to that man, who seems really to be
the sinner, and nothing will eradicate the idea. He will go and marry
that woman because he thinks that in that way he can best carry his
purpose, and then he will repent at leisure. I used to tell you that you
had better listen to the sermons."

"And now I must pay for it!"

"Well, my boy, it is no good crying for spilt milk. As I was saying just
now, there is nothing worse than a fool."

CHAPTER XXVI.

MARMADUKE LODGE.

On the 7th of next month two things occurred, each of great importance.
Hunting commenced in the Puckeridge country, and Harry with that famous
mare Belladonna was there. And Squire Prosper was driven in his carriage
into Buntingford, and made his offer with all due formality to Miss
Thoroughbung. The whole household, including Matthew, and the cook, and
the coachman, and the boy, and the two house-maids, knew what he was
going to do. It would be difficult to say how they knew, because he was
a man who never told anything. He was the last man in England who, on
such a matter, would have made a confidant of his butler. He never spoke
to a servant about matters unconnected with their service. He considered
that to do so would be altogether against his dignity. Nevertheless when
he ordered his carriage, which he did not do very frequently at this
time of the year, when the horses were wanted on the farm,--and of which
he gave twenty-four hours' notice to all the persons concerned,--and when
early in the morning he