“It is possible,” said Graham.  “Well, as I was saying; Aunt Barbara, for the sake of the promise I made her father on his death-bed, if for no other reason, I shall and must always take an interest in Madelon.”

“And I for her mother’s sake,” replied Mrs. Treherne, stiffly.  “If you have no other interest in Madelon than——­however, it is useless to discuss that.  I want to know how we have disappointed you—­Madelon and I—­for you are disappointed; tell me, Horace—­I am really anxious to know.”

“Dear Aunt Barbara, I am not at all disappointed; or, if I am, it is not your fault or hers—­quite the reverse.  Nothing but the perversity of human nature.  Shall I own the truth?  All these years I have kept in my mind a dear little girl in a shabby old frock which she had outgrown—­a dear, affectionate little soul, with so few ideas on people and things, that she actually took me for one of the best and wisest of human beings.  See how much vanity there is in it all!  I come back, and find a demure, well-drilled, fashionable young lady.  I might have known how it would be, but it gave me a sort of shock, I own—­my little wild Madelon gone for ever and a day, and this proper young lady in her place.”

“You are unreasonable, Horace,” said Mrs. Treherne, half laughing, half vexed; “and ungrateful too, when Madeleine has been working so hard, with the hope, I know, of pleasing and astonishing you with her doings.”

“But I am pleased,” said Graham.  “Astonished?  No, I cannot be astonished that Madelon, with you to help her, should accomplish anything; but I am delighted, charmed.  What more shall I say?  So much so, Aunt Barbara, that when I am married—­ as I mean to be shortly, and set up a house of my own—­you and Madelon will have to pay me visits of any length.  I shall always feel that I have a sort of property in her, through early associations.”

“Are you going to be married shortly?” said Mrs. Treherne; “have you anything definite to do?  Where are you going to settle?”

“Do you not know?” he answered.  “Dr. Vavasour has offered me a partnership.”

“And you have accepted it?”

“Not yet.  He has given me six months to think it over; so I need not hurry my decision; and, in the meantime, I have plenty to do with my book.  In fact, I need the rest.”

“It seems a pity—­” began Mrs. Treherne.

“What seems a pity, Aunt Barbara?”

“That with your talents you should settle down for life in a country village.  You could surely do something better.”

“I don’t know,” he answered with a sigh.  “There is nothing else very obvious at present, and I cannot be a rover all my life.  For one thing, my health would not allow of my taking up that sort of thing again just at present; and then there is Maria to be considered.  She hates the idea of leaving Ashurst, and it has been her dream for years that this partnership should be offered me, and that I should accept it.  I owe it to her to settle down into steady married life before long.”