“By all means, Lecount,” said Noel Vanstone, graciously.  “You are an excellent creature, and I like to oblige you.  Lecount’s Tank, Mr. Bygrave, is the only Tank in England—­Lecount’s Toad is the oldest Toad in the world.  Will you come and drink tea at seven o’clock to-night?  And will you prevail on Miss Bygrave to accompany you?  I want her to see my house.  I don’t think she has any idea what a strong house it is.  Come and survey my premises, Miss Bygrave.  You shall have a stick and rap on the walls; you shall go upstairs and stamp on the floors, and then you shall hear what it all cost.”  His eyes wrinkled up cunningly at the corners, and he slipped another tender speech into Magdalen’s ear, under cover of the all-predominating voice in which Captain Wragge thanked him for the invitation.  “Come punctually at seven,” he whispered, “and pray wear that charming hat!”

Mrs. Lecount’s lips closed ominously.  She set down the captain’s niece as a very serious drawback to the intellectual luxury of the captain’s society.

“You are fatiguing yourself, sir,” she said to her master.  “This is one of your bad days.  Let me recommend you to be careful; let me beg you to walk back.”

Having carried his point by inviting the new acquaintances to tea, Noel Vanstone proved to be unexpectedly docile.  He acknowledged that he was a little fatigued, and turned back at once in obedience to the housekeeper’s advice.

“Take my arm, sir—­take my arm on the other side,” said Captain Wragge, as they turned to retrace their steps.  His party-colored eyes looked significantly at Magdalen while he spoke, and warned her not to stretch Mrs. Lecount’s endurance too far at starting.  She instantly understood him; and, in spite of Noel Vanstone’s reiterated assertions that he stood in no need of the captain’s arm, placed herself at once by the housekeeper’s side.  Mrs. Lecount recovered her good-humor, and opened another conversation with Magdalen by making the one inquiry of all others which, under existing circumstances, was the hardest to answer.

“I presume Mrs. Bygrave is too tired, after her journey, to come out to-day?” said Mrs. Lecount.  “Shall we have the pleasure of seeing her tomorrow?”

“Probably not,” replied Magdalen.  “My aunt is in delicate health.”

“A complicated case, my dear madam,” added the captain; conscious that Mrs. Wragge’s personal appearance (if she happened to be seen by accident) would offer the flattest of all possible contradictions to what Magdalen had just said of her.  “There is some remote nervous mischief which doesn’t express itself externally.  You would think my wife the picture of health if you looked at her, and yet, so delusive are appearances, I am obliged to forbid her all excitement.  She sees no society—­our medical attendant, I regret to say, absolutely prohibits it.”

“Very sad,” said Mrs. Lecount.  “The poor lady must often feel lonely, sir, when you and your niece are away from her?”