t to the long-deferred luncheon. I
listened to his great satisfaction with what he had seen, and the
marvel he thought it; and meanwhile I looked for Harold, and saw him
presently come in, in exactly that condition of dress, as he considered
due to me, and with the long blue envelope I knew full well in one
hand, in the other the little figure of the Hope of Poland which Miss
Woolmer had given him; and oh! what a gladness there was in his eyes.
He put them both down beside Sir James, and then retreated to a side
table, where Dora had been set to entertain a stray school-boy or two.

I longed to hear Sir James's observations, but his provoking opposite
neighbour began to talk, and I got nothing more to myself, and I had to
spend the next half-hour in showing our grounds to Mrs. Vernon, who
admired as if she were electioneering, and hindered me from knowing
what anybody was about, till the people had had their cups of coffee
and their carriages had come.

We three found ourselves in the porch together when Eustace had handed
in Mrs. Vernon, and Sir James, turning for a last shake of Harold's
hand, said, "I shall expect you this day week." Then, with most polite
thanks to the master of the house, he was driven off, while Harold,
beaming down on us, exclaimed, "It is as good as done. I am to go up
and see the Secretary of State about it next week."

I had no doubt what it was, and cried out joyfully to ask how he had
done it. "I told him who first discovered the capabilities of the
clay, and laid the state of the case before him. He was very much
touched, said it was just such a matter as needed severity at the time,
but was sure to be pardoned now."

"Pardoned! What do you mean?" exclaimed Eustace. "You don't mean that
you have not done with that wretched old Prometesky yet? I thought at
least, when you took up Sir James all to yourself, spoiling the
luncheon and keeping everyone waiting, you were doing something for the
benefit of the family."

As Harold seemed dumb with amazement, I asked what he could possibly
have been expected to do for the good of the family, and Eustace
mumbled out something about that supposed Calldron barony, which seemed
to have turned his head, and I answered sharply that Sir James had
nothing at all to do with reviving peerages; besides, if this one had
ever existed, it would have been Harold's. I had much better have held
my tongue. Eustace never recovered that allegation. That d