my explanations.

The salt has gone out of life a bit, and I think it will do me good to
get to Graylees, where I shall find a thousand things to interest me. I
daresay Ellaline will be glad to settle down, though she is too polite
to show it; and I'm sure Emily will.

After a look at the Roman Wall, and a sight of Bamborough, we shall run
to Warwickshire with few detours or pauses.

You see, by the way, that you were wrong in thinking she could care. If
there had been the least warmth in her heart for me she couldn't have
sold my ring. I'm glad I didn't make a fool of myself.

Penrhyn wants to be remembered to you.

Yours ever,

Pen.

XXXIV

SIR LIONEL PENDRAGON TO COLONEL O'HAGAN

_County Hotel, Newcastle_,
_September 5th_

My Dear Pat: You'll be surprised to get another letter from me
on the tail of the last, but there have been developments in which I
think you will be interested.

The sale of the ring was a mere preface to what has followed.

We arrived at Newcastle this afternoon, finding Burden already here. I
didn't think the meeting between him and Ellaline particularly cordial,
but appearances are deceiving where girls are concerned, as I have
lately been reminded in more ways than one. About an hour ago, while I
was getting off some letters and telegrams, I received a message from my
ward asking if she could see me in the hotel drawing-room--the place is
so full I couldn't get a private one.

I went down at once, of course, dimly (and foolishly) hoping that she
wanted to "confess" about the ring. But it was quite a different
confession she had to make; her desire to be engaged to Mr. Burden!

Naturally, after our last conversation on that subject, I was somewhat
surprised, and on the spur of the moment was tempted to remind her that
not long ago Young Nick had appeared as suitable in her eyes, as young
Dick. However, I stopped in time to save myself from being both bounder
and brute. I did inquire whether she were now sure of her own mind; but
it was the duty of a guardian and not the malice of a disappointed man
which prompted the question.

Her manner was singularly dry and businesslike, and she came as near to
looking plain as it is possible for a beautiful girl to come; so love
isn't always a beautifier.

"I am sure of my mind for the moment," she replied, with repulsive
prudence. "I suppose a girl need never say more."

This answer and her manner puzzled me, so I ventured