The necessity for restriction in their expenditures had ceased, and the baronet and his wife greatly enjoyed the first opportunity their secluded situation had given them, to draw around their board their fellow-creatures of their own stamp.  In the former, it was pure philanthropy; the same feeling urged him to seek out and relieve distress in humble life; while in the latter it was love of station and seemliness.  It was becoming the owner of Moseley Hall, and it was what the daughters of the Benfield family had done since the conquest.

“I am extremely sorry,” said the good baronet at dinner, “Mr. Denbigh declined our invitation to-day; I hope he will yet ride over in the evening.”

Looks of a singular import were exchanged between Colonel Egerton and Sir Herbert Nicholson, at the mention of Denbigh’s name; which, as the latter had just asked the favor of taking wine with Mrs. Wilson, did not escape her notice.  Emily had innocently mentioned his precipitate retreat the night before; and he had, when reminded of his engagement to dine with them that very day, and promised an introduction to Sir Herbert Nicholson by John, in her presence, suddenly excused himself and withdrawn.  With an indefinite suspicion of something wrong, she ventured, therefore, to address Sir Herbert Nicholson.

“Did you know Mr. Denbigh, in Spain?”

“I told Miss Emily Moseley, I believe, last evening, that I knew some of the name,” replied the gentleman evasively; then pausing a moment, he added with great emphasis, “there is a circumstance connected with one of that name, I shall ever remember.”

“It was creditable, no doubt, Sir Herbert,” cried young Jarvis, sarcastically.  The soldier affected not to hear the question, and asked Jane to take wine with him.  Lord Chatterton, however, putting his knife and fork down gravely, and with a glow of animation, observed with unusual spirit,

“I have no doubt it was, sir.”

Jarvis in his turn, affected not to hear this speech, and nothing farther was said, as Sir Edward saw that the name of Mr. Denbigh excited a sensation amongst his guests for which he was unable to account, and which he soon forgot himself.

After the company had retired, Lord Chatterton, however, related to the astonished and indignant family of the baronet the substance of the following scene, of which he had been a witness that morning, while on a visit to Denbigh at the rectory.  They had been sitting in the parlor by themselves, over their breakfast, when a Captain Digby was announced.

“I have the honor of waiting upon you, Mr. Denbigh,” said the soldier, with the stiff formality of a professed duellist, “on behalf of Captain Jarvis, but will postpone my business until you are at leisure,” glancing his eye on Chatterton.

“I know of no business with Captain Jarvis,” said Denbigh, politely handing the stranger a chair, “to which Lord Chatterton cannot be privy; if he will excuse the interruption.  The nobleman bowed, and Captain Digby, a little awed by the rank of Denbigh’s friend, proceeded in a more measured manner.