‘Not correspond!’ cried Louis, in consternation.  ’Are you not engaged?’

’As far as understanding each other goes.  But who knows what may be her machinations, or Isabel’s sense of obedience?’

‘Does she forbid it?’

’No.  She went to speak to Isabel.  I fancy she found it unwise to test her power too far; so she came down and palavered me,—­assured me that I was personally all that heart could wish—­she loved her dear child the better for valuing solid merit.  Faugh! how could I stand such gammon?  But I must perceive that she was peculiarly circumstanced with regard to Isabel’s family, she must not seem to sanction an engagement till I could offer a home suited to her expectations.  She said something of my Uncle Oliver; but I disposed of that.  However, I dare say it made her less willing to throw me overboard!  Anyway, she smoothed me and nattered me, till I ended by agreeing that she has no choice but to remove instanter from the Terrace, and forbid me her abode!  And, as I said, she wormed a promise from me not to correspond.’

’You have no great loss there.  Depend upon it that Isabel would neither brave her openly by receiving your letters, nor submit to do anything underhand.’

’Nor would I ask her!—­but it is intolerable to have been tricked into complacent consent.’

‘I am glad your belle-mere knows how to manage you.’

’I told you she was only less unbearable than yourself.  You have it from the same stock.’

’The better for your future peace.  I honour her.  If she had let the Welsh dragon show his teeth in style, he would only have had to make unpleasant apologies when the good time comes.’

‘When!’ sighed James.

‘If Isabel be the woman I take her for, she will be easily content.’

’She is sick of parade; she has tried how little it can do for a mind like hers:  she desires nothing but a home like our own—­but what prospect have I of any such thing?  Even if the loss of my fellowship were compensated, how could I marry and let Clara be a governess?  Clara must be my first consideration.  But, I say, we ought to be going home.’

‘I thought I was at home.’

’My grandmother and Jane won’t be pacified till they see you.  They think you are not fit to be in a house by yourself.  They both fell on me for having let you go.  You must come back, or my grandmother will think you gone off in despair, as you ought to be, and I shall never dare to speak to her.’

‘At your service,’ said the duteous Fitzjocelyn.  ’I’ll leave word at the lodge.’

‘By-the-bye, are you up to walking?’

’Candidly, now I think of it, I doubt whether I am.  Come, and let us order the carriage.’

’No—­no;—­I can’t stand waiting—­I’ll go home and get over the first with granny—­you come after.  Yes; that’s right.’

So the hunted Louis waited, contentedly, while James marched back, chary of his precious secret, and unwilling to reveal it even to her, and yet wanting her sympathy.