Happily, he had some trust in my veracity, and let me prove my perfect alibi for Harold as well as for Dermot.  When I represented how those two were the only men among some hundreds who had shown either courage or coolness, he granted it with the words, “True, true.  Of course, of course.  That’s the way good blood shows itself.  Hereditary qualities are sure to manifest themselves.”

Then he let me exonerate Harold from the charge of intemperance, pointing out that not even after the injury and operation, nor after yesterday’s cold and fatigue, had he touched any liquor; but I don’t think the notion of teetotalism was gratifying, even when I called it a private, individual vow.  Nor could I make out whether his Australian life was known, and I was afraid to speak of it, lest I should be betraying what need never be mentioned.  Of Viola’s adventure, to my surprise, her uncle did not make much, but he had heard of that from the fountain-head, unpolluted by Stympson gossip; and, moreover, Lady Diana had been so disproportionately angry as to produce a reaction in him.  Viola was his darling, and he had taken her part when he had found that she knew her brother was at hand.  He allowed, too, that she might fairly be inspired with confidence by the voice and countenance of her captor, whom he seemed to view as a good-natured giant.  But even this was an advance on “the prize-fighter,” as Lady Diana and the Stympsons called him.

It was an amusing thing to hear the old earl moralising on the fortunate conjunction of circumstances, which had brought the property, contrary to all expectation, to the most suitable individual.  Much did I long for Harold to return and show what he was, but only his lordship’s servant, letters, and portmanteau came on an improvised sleigh.  He had an immense political, county, and benevolent correspondence, and was busied with it all the rest of the day.  Eustace hovered about reverentially and obligingly, and secured the good opinion which had been already partly gained by the statement of the police at the Quarter Sessions, whence Lord Erymanth had been returning, that they never had had so few cases from the Hydriot potteries as during this last quarter.  Who could be complimented upon this happy state of things save the chairman?  And who could appropriate the compliment more readily or with greater delight?  Even I felt that it would be cruel high treason to demonstrate which was the mere chess king.

Poor Eustace!  Harold had infected me enough with care for him to like to see him in such glory, though somewhat restless as to the appearances of this first state dinner of ours, and at Harold’s absence; but, happily, the well-known step was in the hall before our guest came downstairs, and Eustace dashed out to superintend the toilette that was to be as worthy of meeting with an earl as nature and garments would permit.  “Fit to be seen?” I heard Harold growl.  “Of course I do when I dine with Lucy, and this is only an old man.”