“Saw him in the morning,” Mr. Pole replied carelessly.

Mr. Barrett was at the table.

“By the way, what do you think of our law of primogeniture?” Mr. Pole addressed him.

He replied with the usual allusion to a basis of aristocracy.

“Well, it’s the English system,” said Mr. Pole.  “That’s always in its favour at starting.  I’m Englishman enough to think that.  There ought to be an entail of every decent bit of property, eh?”

It was observed that Mr. Barrett reddened as he said, “I certainly think that a young man should not be subject to his father’s caprice.”

“Father’s caprice!  That isn’t common.  But, if you’re founding a family, you must entail.”

“We agree, sir, from my point of view, and from yours.”

“Knits the family bond, don’t you think?  I mean, makes the trunk of the tree firm.  It makes the girls poor, though!”

Mr. Barrett saw that he had some confused legal ideas in his head, and that possibly there were personal considerations in the background; so he let the subject pass.

When the guest had departed, Mr. Pole grew demonstrative in his paternal caresses.  He folded Adela in one arm, and framed her chin in his fingers:  marks of affection dear to her before she had outgrown them.

“So!” he said, “you’ve given up Besworth, have you?”

At the name, Arabella and Cornelia drew nearer to his chair.

“Given up Besworth, papa?  It is not we who have given it up,” said Adela.

“Yes, you have; and quite right too.  You say, ’What’s the use of it, for that’s a sort of thing that always goes to the son.’”

“You suppose, papa, that we indulge in ulterior calculations?” came from Cornelia.

“Well, you see, my love!—­no, I don’t suppose it at all.  But to buy a place and split it up after two or three years—­I dare say they wouldn’t insure me for more, that’s nonsense.  And it seems unfair to you, as you must think—­”

“Darling papa! we are not selfish!” it rejoiced Adela to exclaim.

His face expressed a transparent simple-mindedness that won the confidence of the ladies and awakened their ideal of generosity.

“I know what you mean, papa,” said Arabella.  “But, we love Besworth; and if we may enjoy the place for the time that we are all together, I shall think it sufficient.  I do not look beyond.”

Her sisters echoed the sentiment, and sincerely.  They were as little sordid as creatures could be.  If deeply questioned, it would have been found that their notion of the position Providence had placed them in (in other words, their father’s unmentioned wealth), permitted them to be as lavish as they pleased.  Mr. Pole had endowed them with a temperament similar to his own; and he had educated it.  In feminine earth it flourished wonderfully.  Shy as himself, their shyness took other forms, and developed with