“Poor as Job.  Hard up, I think.”

“Then they are angling for the broad lands of Hartledon.  I see it all.  You have been a victim to fortune-hunting.”

“There you are wrong, Carr.  I can’t answer for the dowager one way or the other; but Maude is the most disinterested—­”

“Of course:  girls on the look-out for establishments always are.  Have it as you like.”

He spoke in tones of ridicule; and Hartledon jumped off the stile and led the way home.

That Lord Hartledon had got himself into a very serious predicament, Mr. Carr plainly saw.  His good nature, his sensitive regard for the feelings of others, rendering it so impossible for him to say no, and above all his vacillating disposition, were his paramount characteristics still:  in a degree they ever would be.  Easily led as ever, he was as a very reed in the hands of the crafty old woman of the world, located with him.  She had determined that he should become the husband of her daughter; and was as certain of accomplishing her end as if she had foreseen the future.  Lord Hartledon himself afterwards, in his bitter repentance, said, over and over again, that circumstances were against him; and they certainly were so, as you will find.

Lord Hartledon thought he was making headway against it now, in sending for his old friend, and resolving to be guided by his advice.

“I will take an opportunity of speaking to Maude, Carr,” he resumed.  “I would rather not do it, of course; but I see there’s no help for it.”

“Make the opportunity,” said Mr. Carr, with emphasis.  “Don’t delay a day; I shall expect you to write me a letter to-morrow saying you’ve done it.”

“But you won’t leave to-day,” said Hartledon, entreatingly, feeling an instant prevision that with the departure of Thomas Carr all his courage would ignominiously desert him.

“I must go.  You know I told you last night that my stay could only be four-and-twenty hours.  You can accomplish it whilst I am here, if you like, and get it over; the longer a nauseous medicine is held to the lips the more difficult it is to swallow it.  You say you are going to ride with Lady Maude presently; let that be your opportunity.”

And get it over!  Words that sounded as emancipation in Val’s ear.  But somehow he did not accomplish it in that ride.  Excuses were on his lips five hundred times, but his hesitating lips never formed them.  He really was on the point of speaking; at least he said so to himself; when Mr. Hillary overtook them on horseback, and rode with them some distance.  After that, Maude put her horse to a canter, and so they reached home.

“Well?” said Mr. Carr.

“Not yet,” answered Hartledon; “there was no opportunity.”

“My suggestion was to make your opportunity.”

“And so I will.  I’ll speak to her either to-night or to-morrow.  She chose to ride fast to-day; and Hillary joined us part of the way.  Don’t look as if you doubted me, Carr:  I shall be sure to speak.”