determined that if Ayala would become Mrs. Batsby there
might probably be an end to one of his troubles.

As he went down to Merle Park he arranged his plan. He would, in the
first place, tell Tom that Ayala had as many suitors as Penelope,
and that one had come up now who would probably succeed. But when he
reached home he found that his son was gone. Tom had taken a sudden
freak, and had run up to London. "He seemed quite to have got a
change," said Lady Tringle.

"I hope it was a change for the better as to that stupid girl." Lady
Tringle could not say that there had been any change for the better,
but she thought that there had been a change about the girl. Tom
had, as she said, quite "brisked up," had declared that he was not
going to stand this thing any longer, had packed up three or four
portmanteaus, and had had himself carried off to the nearest railway
station in time for an afternoon train up to London. "What is he
going to do when he gets there?" asked Sir Thomas. Lady Tringle had
no idea what her son intended to do, but thought that something
special was intended in regard to Ayala.

"He is an ass," said the father.

"You always say he is an ass," said the mother, complaining.

"No doubt I do. What else am I to call him?" Then he went on and
developed his scheme. "Let Ayala be asked to Merle Park for a
week,--just for a week,--and assured that during that time Tom
would not be there. Then let Captain Batsby also be invited." Upon
this there followed an explanation as to Captain Batsby and his
aspirations. Tom must be relieved after some fashion, and Sir Thomas
declared that no better fashion seemed to present itself. Lady
Tringle received her orders with sundry murmurings, still grieving
for her son's grief;--but she assented, as she always did assent, to
her husband's propositions.

Now we will accompany Tom up to London. The patient reader will
perhaps have understood the condition of his mind when in those
days of his sharpest agony he had given himself up to Faddle and
champagne. By these means he had brought himself into trouble and
disgrace, of which he was fully conscious. He had fallen into the
hands of the police and had been harassed during the whole period by
headache and nausea. Then had come the absurdity of his challenge
to Colonel Stubbs, the folly of which had been made plain to him by
the very letter which his rival had written to him. There was good
sense enough about the poor fel