“Did you, Wilfrid!—­but you did not—­offer yourself as owner of Besworth?”

Wilfrid kept his eyes slanting on the floor.

“Now I see why you should still wish it,” continued Adela.  “Perhaps you don’t know the reason which makes it impossible, or I would say—­Bacchus! it must be compassed.  You remember your old schoolboy oath which you taught me?  We used to swear always, by Bacchus!”

Adela laughed and blushed, like one who petitions pardon for this her utmost sin, that is not regretted as it should be.

“Mrs. Chump again, isn’t it?” said Wilfrid.  “Pole would be a preferable name.  If she has the ambition, it elevates her.  And it would be rather amusing to see the dear old boy in love.”

Adela gave her under-lip a distressful bite.

“Why do you, Wilfrid—­why treat such matters with levity?”

“Levity?  I am the last to treat ninety thousand pounds with levity.”

“Has she so much?” Adela glanced at him.

“She will be snapped up by some poor nobleman.  If I take her down to the yacht, one of Lady Charlotte’s brothers or uncles will bite; to a certainty.”

“It would be an excellent idea to take her!” cried Adela.

“Excellent! and I’ll do it, if you like.”

“Could you bear the reflex of the woman?”

“Don’t you know that I am not in the habit of sitting on the extreme edge...?”

Adela started, breathing piteously:  “Wilfrid, dear! you want something of me—­what is it?”

“Simply that you should behave civilly to your father’s guest.”

“I had a fear, dear; but I think too well of you to entertain it for a moment.  If civility is to win Besworth for you, there is my hand.”

“Be civil—­that’s all,” said Wilfrid, pressing the hand given.  “These consultations of yours and acting in concert—­one tongue for three women--are a sort of missish, unripe nonsense, that one sees only in bourgeoise girls—­eh?  Give it up.  Lady Charlotte hit on it at a glance.”

“And I, my chameleon brother, will return her the compliment, some day,” Adela said to herself, as she hurried back to her sisters, bearing a message for Cornelia.  This lady required strong persuasion.  A word from Adela:  “He will think you have some good reason to deny him a private interview,” sent her straight to the stairs.

Wilfrid was walking up and down, with his arms folded and his brows bent.  Cornelia stood in the doorway.

“You desire to speak to me, Wilfrid?  And in private?”

“I didn’t wish to congratulate you publicly, that’s all.  I know it’s rather against your taste.  We’ll shut the door, and sit down, if you don’t mind.  Yes, I congratulate you with all my heart,” he said, placing a chair for Cornelia.

“May I ask, wherefore?”

“You don’t think marriage a matter for congratulation?”

“Sometimes:  as the case may be.”