no more may you—­it doesn’t matter; Frank’s future is equally certain either way—­put him into the army, the Church, politics, what you please, and let him drift:  he’ll end in being a general, a bishop, or a minister of State, by dint of the great modern qualification of doing nothing whatever to deserve his place.”  With this summary of his son’s worldly prospects, Mr. Clare tossed the letter contemptuously across the table and poured himself out another cup of tea.

Mr. Vanstone read the letter with eager interest and pleasure.  It was written in a tone of somewhat elaborate cordiality; but the practical advantages which it placed at Frank’s disposal were beyond all doubt.  The writer had the means of using a friend’s interest—­interest of no ordinary kind—­with a great Mercantile Firm in the City; and he had at once exerted this influence in favor of Mr. Clare’s eldest boy.  Frank would be received in the office on a very different footing from the footing of an ordinary clerk; he would be “pushed on” at every available opportunity; and the first “good thing” the House had to offer, either at home or abroad, would be placed at his disposal.  If he possessed fair abilities and showed common diligence in exercising them, his fortune was made; and the sooner he was sent to London to begin the better for his own interests it would be.

“Wonderful news!” cried Mr. Vanstone, returning the letter.  “I’m delighted—­I must go back and tell them at home.  This is fifty times the chance that mine was.  What the deuce do you mean by abusing Society?  Society has behaved uncommonly well, in my opinion.  Where’s Frank?”

“Lurking,” said Mr. Clare.  “It is one of the intolerable peculiarities of louts that they always lurk.  I haven’t seen my lout this morning.  It you meet with him anywhere, give him a kick, and say I want him.”

Mr. Clare’s opinion of his son’s habits might have been expressed more politely as to form; but, as to substance, it happened, on that particular morning, to be perfectly correct.  After leaving Magdalen, Frank had waited in the shrubbery, at a safe distance, on the chance that she might detach herself from her sister’s company, and join him again.  Mr. Vanstone’s appearance immediately on Norah’s departure, instead of encouraging him to show himself, had determined him on returning to the cottage.  He walked back discontentedly; and so fell into his father’s clutches, totally unprepared for the pending announcement, in that formidable quarter, of his departure for London.

In the meantime, Mr. Vanstone had communicated his news—­in the first place, to Magdalen, and afterward, on getting back to the house, to his wife and Miss Garth.  He was too unobservant a man to notice that Magdalen looked unaccountably startled, and Miss Garth unaccountably relieved, by his announcement of Frank’s good fortune.  He talked on about it, quite unsuspiciously, until the luncheon-bell rang—­and