“Mr Belfront says there were no carpets in his ancestor’s time”—­

“And no railroads, nor postchaises, nor books, nor nothing; and is that any reason why we shouldn’t have lots of every thing now?  By dad, before I’ve been here a week I’ll have a reg’lar French Revolution!  No Bastille! says I; let’s have a Turkey carpet, and a telescope dining-table, good roads, and no infernal punts—­and, above all, let’s get quit of the villain Peeper.”

“Oh! if Reginald would only consent!”

“Why not? by dad, I’ll make his fortune.  I’ll give him a thousand a-year for the water-power that’s now all thrown away.  I’ll have a nice village built down in the valley.  I’ll get him two guineas an acre for his land that’s now lying waste.  I’ll dig for coal.  We’ll build a nice comfortable house, and leave this old ruin to the crows.”

“And the neighbours, uncle Samson?”

“Why, we’ll build a church, and the parson will be a good companion.  When the roads are made, you’ll give a jolly dinner once a-week to every squire within ten miles.  You’ll have a book club.  You’ll help in the Sunday school.  You’ll go to the county balls.  Your husband will join the agricultural society, and act as a magistrate.  He’ll subscribe to the hounds.  He’ll attend to the registrations.  He’ll have shooting-parties in September.  And as to any old-world, wretched talks about chivalry and antiquity, we’ll show him that there never was a time like the present—­commerce, land, property, and intelligence, all in the very best condition.  We’ll make Lutter superintendent of the whole estate, and send old Peeper about his business.  And in all this you must help; for there’s nothing to be done without the help of the ladies:  so give me your hand, dear niece, and don’t cry.”

“It would make me so happy!  I would never look into Amadis de Gaul again!”

“Hang Amadis de Gall and Amadi de Spurzheim, too!  Where is your husband?”

“I seldom see him now.  He is always in the oratory with Mr Peeper.”

“The deuce he is!” said the uncle.  “And how do you get on in other respects?  Are you comfortable—­happy—­contented?” Jane told him all she had encountered since she had come to the castle, and the uncle seemed thunderstruck at the recital.

“Well! bold measures are always the best,” he said at last; “I’ll kick Peeper into the moat!” and before his niece could interfere, the uncle had rushed across the quadrangle, guided, we are sorry to say, by Mr Lutter, and, grasping the venerable Peeper, whom he met near the drawbridge, he dragged him towards the water.

Jane ran to get assistance for the unfortunate victim; and crying “Help! help!” as she saw the wretched man forced over the walls, she looked in a state of distraction towards her husband.  “Dear Jane,” said that individual, smiling blandly, “I told you you had overtired yourself with walking.”  Jane gazed round; there was Reginald sitting beside her, with her head reclining on his shoulder, at the open window of the inn in Wales.  The vale of Cwmcwyllchly was spread in a beautiful landscape below.  They were still on their wedding tour.