in to Lady Julia now?" The earl had felt that he
had not quite succeeded; that his offer had been accepted somewhat
coldly, and had not much hope that further good could be done on that
day, even with the help of his best port wine.

"Half a moment," said the squire. "There are matters as to which I
never find myself able to speak quickly, and this certainly seems to
be one of them. If you will allow me I will think over what you have
said, and then see you again."

"Certainly, certainly."

"But for your own part in the matter, for your great generosity and
kind heart, I beg to offer you my warmest thanks." Then the squire
bowed low, and preceded the earl out of the room.

Lord De Guest still felt that he had not succeeded. We may probably
say, looking at the squire's character and peculiarities, that no
marked success was probable at the first opening-out of such a
subject. He had said of himself that he was never able to speak
quickly in matters of moment; but he would more correctly have
described his own character had he declared that he could not think
of them quickly. As it was, the earl was disappointed; but had he
been able to read the squire's mind, his disappointment would have
been less strong. Mr Dale knew well enough that he was being treated
well, and that the effort being made was intended with kindness
to those belonging to him; but it was not in his nature to be
demonstrative and quick at expressions of gratitude. So he entered
the drawing-room with a cold, placid face, leading Eames, and Lady
Julia also, to suppose that no good had been done.

"How do you do, sir?" said Johnny, walking up to him in a wild sort
of manner,--going through a premeditated lesson, but doing it without
any presence of mind.

"How do you do, Eames?" said the squire, speaking with a very cold
voice. And then there was nothing further said till the dinner was
announced.

"Dale, I know you drink port," said the earl when Lady Julia left
them. "If you say you don't like that, I shall say you know nothing
about it."

"Ah! that's the '20," said the squire, tasting it.

"I should rather think it is," said the earl. "I was lucky enough to
get it early, and it hasn't been moved for thirty years. I like to
give it to a man who knows it, as you do, at the first glance. Now
there's my friend Johnny there; it's thrown away upon him."

"No, my lord, it is not. I think it's uncommonly nice."

"Uncommonly nice! So is champagne