“Yes; I suppose you must be nearly thirty, sir!”

Sir Stephen laughed, not ill-pleased at the retort.

“Seriously, Staff, I’m older than you think, and—­er—­Ah, well, we’re all mortal!  Do you think you could oblige me in a little matter—­”

He paused.

Stafford looked at him with a half smile.

“Sounds as if you wanted to borrow money, sir.  Anything I can do—­”

Sir Stephen laughed.

“No, I’m not in want of money:  but I’m in want of a daughter-in-law, of grandchildren to sit upon my knee—­” He laughed again, as if he were a little ashamed of the touch of sentiment.  “Seriously, Staff, is there any reason for waiting?  I know that the engagement is a short one; but, well why should you and Maude not be happy?  I can make arrangements,” he went on, eagerly.  “There is Brae Wood.  I’ll make that over to you—­”

Brae Wood again!  Stafford’s face grew set and impassive.

—­“Or there is that place I bought in Warwickshire.  But, there, perhaps you and Maude would like to find a place for yourselves.  Very natural!  Well, there’s no difficulty!  Come, Staff!  Why delay!  ’Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,’ you know!  Why shouldn’t the marriage take place directly the House rises and we leave London?”

Stafford turned away so that his father might not see the sudden pallor of his face.

“I’ll—­I’ll speak to Maude, sir,” he said, trying to make his tone cheerful, if not enthusiastic.

Sir Stephen laid his hand upon Stafford’s broad shoulder.

“Thank you, my boy!” he said.  “You are always good to me!  Always!  God bless you, Staff!”

His voice was husky, there was a moisture in his eyes which almost made Stafford’s grow dim; then, with a swift return to his usual alert and sanguine manner, Sir Stephen withdrew his hands and swung round.

“I must be off:  Maude likes me to be in the room when the people come:  and, by George!  Staff, I find myself doing what she likes all the time!”

His laugh rang out as he hurried with his brisk step from the room.

He was there at his post, when the guests began to arrive; and not far from him stood Maude in the splendour of her beauty; not tremulous now, as Howard had seen her, but statuesque and calm, and gracious with a stately graciousness which was well suited to the coronet which all knew would some day glitter on the bronze-gold hair.

Every now and then as the crowd increased her eyes would wander in search of Stafford, and she noticed that though he took his part, did his duty, the listless, half-wearied expression was still on his face, and a pang shot through her.  Was it possible that he was still thinking of that girl at Bryndermere—­She thrust the thought, the sickening dread, from her and forced the conventional smile to her face.

She danced the first dance with a popular duke who stood high in the government, and a word or two he let drop:  “Sir Stephen:  a man worthy of the highest honors,” made her heart beat with anticipatory triumph.