Kate O’HARA.

Neville thought of showing Kate’s letter to Miss Mellerby, but when he read it a second time he made up his mind that he would keep it to himself.  The letter was all very well, and, as regarded the expressions towards himself, just what it should be.  But he felt that it was not such a letter as Miss Mellerby would have written herself, and he was a little ashamed of all that was said about the priest.  Neither was he proud of the pretty, finished, French hand-writing, over every letter of which his love had taken so much pains.  In truth, Kate O’Hara was better educated than himself, and perhaps knew as much as Sophie Mellerby.  She could have written her letter quite as well in French as in English, and she did understand something of the formation of her sentences.  Fred Neville had been at an excellent school, but it may be doubted whether he could have explained his own written language.  Nevertheless he was a little ashamed of his Kate, and thought that Miss Mellerby might perceive her ignorance if he shewed her letter.

He had sent for his brother in order that he might explain his scheme and get his brother’s advice;—­but he found it very difficult to explain his scheme to Jack Neville.  Jack, indeed, from the very first would not allow that the scheme was in any way practicable.  “I don’t quite understand, Fred, what you mean.  You don’t intend to deceive her by a false marriage?”

“Most assuredly not.  I do not intend to deceive her at all.”

“You must make her your wife, or not make her your wife.”

“Undoubtedly she will be my wife.  I am quite determined about that.  She has my word,—­and over and above that, she is dearer to me than anything else.”

“If you marry her, her eldest son must of course be the heir to the title.”

“I am not at all so sure of that.  All manner of queer things may be arranged by marriages with Roman Catholics.”

“Put that out of your head,” said Jack Neville.  “In the first place you would certainly find yourself in a mess, and in the next place the attempt itself would be dishonest.  I dare say men have crept out of marriages because they have been illegal; but a man who arranges a marriage with the intention of creeping out of it is a scoundrel.”

“You needn’t bully about it, Jack.  You know very well that I don’t mean to creep out of anything.”

“I’m sure you don’t.  But as you ask me I must tell you what I think.  You are in a sort of dilemma between this girl and Uncle Scroope.”

“I’m not in any dilemma at all.”

“You seem to think you have made some promise to him which will be broken if you marry her;—­and I suppose you certainly have made her a promise.”

“Which I certainly mean to keep,” said Fred.

“All right.  Then you must break your promise to Uncle Scroope.”

“It was a sort of half and half promise.  I could not bear to see him making himself unhappy about it.”