"That will be a very proper little attention, Mr. Rowan, and we shall
be happy to drink success to the establishment. Here's some cake and
wine on the table, and perhaps you'll do us the favour to take a
glass,--so as to bury any past unkindness. T., my love, will you pour
out the wine?"

It was twelve o'clock in the day, and the port wine, which had been
standing for the last week in its decanter, was sipped by Luke Rowan
without any great relish. But it also served its purpose,--and the
burial service over past unkindness was performed with as much
heartiness as the nature of the entertainment admitted. It was not
as yet full four months since Rowan had filled Rachel's glass with
champagne in that same room. Then he had made himself quite at home
in the house as a member of Mr. Tappitt's family; but now he was
going to be at home there as master of the establishment. As he
put down the glass he could not help looking round the room, and
suggesting to himself the changes he would make. As seen at present,
the parlour of the brewery was certainly a dull room. It was very
long since the wainscoting had been painted, longer since the
curtains or carpets had been renewed. It was dark and dingy. But then
so were the Tappitts themselves. Before Rachel should be brought
there he would make the place as bright as herself.

They said to him no word about his marriage. As for Tappitt he said
few words about anything; and Mrs. Tappitt, with all her wish to be
gracious, could not bring herself to mention Rachel Ray. Even between
her and her daughters there was no longer any utterance of Rachel's
name. She had once declared to Augusta, with irrepressible energy,
that the man was a greater fool than she had ever believed possible,
but after that it had been felt that the calamity would be best
endured in silence.

When that interview in the dining-room was over, Rowan saw no more of
Mrs. Tappitt. Business made it needful that he should be daily about
the brewery, and there occasionally he met the poor departing man
wandering among the vats and empty casks like a brewer's ghost. There
was no word spoken between them as to business. The accounts, the
keys, and implements were all handed over through Worts; and Rowan
found himself in possession of the whole establishment with no more
trouble than would have been necessary in settling himself in a new
lodging.

That promise which he had half made of sending bridecake to Mrs.
Sturt