And he galloped away with his loose sailor seat in the direction of “The Towers.”  The hour had come.  That letter was the self-imposed signal for the acknowledgment of his marriage, and, perhaps, extinction of all hope of inheritance.  One watchful figure at the library window perceived his red coat winding through the trees on his way to the stables.  Lady Geraldine had caught sight of the blue envelope, and, with the prescience of love, had divined the whole.  She had not wandered far from the window that morning, being too restless and miserable for anything else.  Now, as she perceived him, her heart stood still.  He must be going that very day.

“Well, she would see him once more, at any rate.  Adieux must be spoken, and, after last night, surely something more, something to dwell on when they were apart.”  The carriage was rolling up to the door for the daily drive.  Lady Calvert and Kate’s mother came down well muffled up.  “Geraldine, my dear, are you not ready!  Oh, you had much better come, or you will be left alone in the house.”

Geraldine, hitherto all transparent candour, shook her head dissentingly.  “Oh, no, thank you; much too cold.  I am going for a walk presently.”

She forbore to inflame the maternal curiosity by mentioning Dutton’s return, and the elder ladies drove off on a shopping expedition to the market town.

Harry, in the meanwhile, had entered the dining-room, and, eliciting from a footman that his uncle was in, poured out something from a decanter on the side table, and, without waiting to refresh himself further, went down the passage leading to Lord Bromley’s sanctum.

“‘The lion in his den, the Douglas in his hall,’” muttered he to himself.  “I shall be a man or a mouse when I come out.”

We need not go through the whole interview of the uncle and nephew.  The latter’s appointment was, of course, the first subject of discussion; and never had Harry known Lord Bromley show more cordiality and warmth of manner.  He himself was becoming confused and tongue-tied with the importance of the confession at hand.

“I think of going to London this afternoon,” said Dutton, still fencing.  “There’s a few things to arrange, as I am to join on Monday.”

Lord Bromley coughed, poked the fire, and then observed,—­“That brings me to a subject that I wish to explain to you.  I have brought you up in the expectation of succeeding me at ‘The Towers,’ and, naturally, I expect you to make a suitable marriage,—­as well you may with such prospects before you.  I have noticed with great pleasure that your inclinations seem to have forestalled my wishes.  The young lady, too, does not appear averse.  But before you go, if you would like to explain yourself to her—­in short, bring it to an engagement, you would have my most cordial approbation—­in fact, I think it’s the best thing you could do.”

Harry grew a shade paler as the opportunity he wanted appeared.