that is all."

"It was a love-match," said Percival, after a moment's pause. "They
ought to be happy together."

Rupert was silent a moment; then he said, in a low voice--

"I doubt whether it was a love-match exactly."

"What in Heaven or earth do you mean?" said Percival, staring. "What
else could it be?"

But before Vivian could make any response, young Fane entered the room
with the air of one who has had good news.

"Mr. Colquhoun asks me to tell you that he has just had a letter from
Mr. Brian Luttrell, sir. He is to meet Mr. and Mrs. Luttrell at the
station at nine o'clock, but their arrival is not to be made generally
known. Only hearing that you were here, he thought it better to let you
know."

"They could not have got Angela's letter," said Rupert. "I wonder why
they are coming. It is very opportune."

"If you don't mind," remarked Percival, "I'll go and see Mr. Colquhoun.
I want to know what he thinks of our adventures. And he may tell me
something about affairs at Netherglen."

He departed on his errand, whistling as he went; but the whistle died on
his lips as soon as he was out of Rupert's hearing. He resumed his
geniality of bearing, however, when he stood in Mr. Colquhoun's office.

"Well, Mr. Colquhoun," he said, "I think we have all taken you by
surprise now."

The old man looked at him keenly over his spectacles.

"I won't say but what you have," he said, with an emphasis on the
pronoun. Percival laughed cheerily.

"Thanks. That's a compliment."

"It's just the truth. You've done a very right thing, and a generous
one, Mr. Heron; and I shall esteem it an honour to shake hands with
you." And Mr. Colquhoun got up from his office-chair, and held out his
hand with a look of congratulation. Percival gave it a good grip, and
resumed, in an airier tone than ever.

"You do me proud, as a Yankee would say, Mr. Colquhoun. I'm sure I don't
see what I've done to merit this mark of approval. Popular report says
that I jilted Miss Murray in the most atrocious manner; but then you
always wanted me to do that, I remember."

"Lad, lad," said the old man, reprovingly, "what is all this bluster and
swagger about? Take the credit of having made a sacrifice for once in
your life, and don't be too ready to say it cost you nothing. Man,
didn't I see you on the street just now, with your hands in your pockets
and your face as black as my shoe? You hadn't those wrinkles in your
brow when you started for