Eugene derived from Haddington’s hesitation between triumph over his supposed rival, and doubt, which had in reality gained the better part.  In spite of this doubt, it is allowable to hope for a very fair share of working happiness in the Haddington household.  Kate was hardly a woman to make a man happy; but, on the other hand, she would not prevent him being happy if his bent lay in that direction.  And Haddington was too entirely contented with himself to be other than happy.

Eugene’s wedding was fixed for the Easter recess, and among the party gathered for the occasion at Millstead were most of those who had been his guests in the previous summer.  The Haddingtons were not there—­Kate retorted Claudia’s evasion; and of course Stafford’s figure was missing; but the Territon brothers were there, and Morewood and Ayre, the former bringing with him the completed picture, which was Rickmansworth’s present to his sister.  The party was to be enlarged the day before, the wedding by a large company of relations of both their houses.

The evening before this invasion was expected, Eugene came down to dinner looking rather perturbed.  He was a little silent during the meal, and when the ladies withdrew, he turned at once to Ayre: 

“I have heard from Stafford.”

“Ah! what does he say?”

“He has joined the Church of Rome.”

“I thought he would.”

Morewood grunted angrily.

“Did you tell him to?” he asked Ayre.

“No; I think I referred to it.”

“Do you suppose he’s honest?” Morewood went on.

“Why not?” asked Eugene.  “I could never make out why he didn’t go before.  What do you say, Ayre?”

Sir Roderick was a little troubled.  This exact following of, or anyhow coincidence with, his advice seemed to cast a responsibility upon him.

“Oh, I expect he’s honest enough; and it’s a splendid field for him,” he answered, repeating the argument he had urged to Stafford himself.

“Ayre,” said Morewood aggressively, “you’ve driven that young man to perdition.”

“Bosh!” said Ayre.  “He’s not a sheep to be driven, and Rome isn’t perdition.  I did no more than give his thoughts a turn.”

“I think I am glad,” said Eugene; “it is much better in some ways.  But he must have gone through another struggle, poor fellow!”

“I doubt it,” said Ayre.

“Anyhow, it’s rather a score for those chaps,” remarked Rickmansworth.  “He’s a good fish to land.”

“Yes, it will make a bit of a sensation,” assented Ayre.  “We’ll see what the Bishop says when he comes to turn Eugene off.  By the way, is it public property?”

“It will be in the papers, I expect, to-morrow.  I wonder what they’ll say!”

“Everything but the truth.”

“By Jove, I hope so.  And we alone know the secret history!”

“Yes,” said Ayre; “and you, Rick, will have to sit silent and hear the enemy triumph.”