on him without the slightest compunction. I never saw a
man so shot in my life. He sent me to look for the money, and she never
left me till I had got it for her."

"I thought Aunt Ju had had enough of her."

"I should think she has now. And we had Lord Giblet. Lord Giblet is to
marry Miss Patmore Green after all."

"Poor Lord Giblet!"

"And poor Miss Patmore Green. I don't know which will have the worst of
it. They can practice the Kappa-kappa together for consolation. It is
all Mrs. Jones' doing, and she is determined that he shan't escape. I'm
to go down to Killancodlem and help."

"Why should you have anything to do with it?"

"Very good shooting, and plenty to eat and drink,--and Giblet is a
friend of mine; so I'm bound to lend a hand. And now, Lady George, I
think I'll go to the hotel and be back to dinner. We are friends."

"Yes; if you promise not to offend me."

"I will never offend you. I will never say a word that all the world
might not hear,--except this once,--to thank you." Then he seized her
hand and kissed it. "You shall always be a sister to me," he said.
"When I am in trouble I will come to you. Say that you will love me as
a brother."

"I will always regard you as a friend."

"Regard is a cold word, but I will make the most of it. Here is your
father."

At this moment they were coming from a side path on to the lawn, and as
they did so the Dean appeared upon the terrace through the deanery room
window. With the Dean was Lord George, and Mary, as soon as she saw
him, rushed up to him and threw her arms round his neck. "Oh George,
dear, dearest George, papa said that perhaps you would come. You are
going to stay?"

"He will dine here," said the Dean.

"Only dine!"

"I cannot stay longer to-day," said Lord George, with his eye upon
Captain De Baron. The Dean had told him that De Baron was there; but,
still, when he saw that the man had been walking with his wife, a
renewed uneasiness came upon him. It could not be right that the man
from whose arms he had rescued her on the night of the ball should be
left alone with her a whole afternoon in the Deanery Garden! She was
thoughtless as a child;--but it seemed to him that the Dean was as
thoughtless as his daughter. The Dean must know what people had said.
The Dean had himself seen that horrid dance, with its results. The
awful accusation made by the Marquis had been uttered in the Dean's
ears. Because that had been wicked and devilishly