The Countess had but to tell Evan that she had met the insolvent in apples, and recognized him under his change of fortune, and had no doubt that at least he would amuse the company.  Then she asked her brother the superfluous question, whether he loved her, which Evan answered satisfactorily enough, as he thought; but practical ladies require proofs.

‘Quick,’ said Evan, seeing Rose vanish, ’what do you want?  I’ll do anything.’

‘Anything?  Ah, but this will be disagreeable to you.’

‘Name it at once.  I promise beforehand.’

The Countess wanted Evan to ask Andrew to be the very best brother-in-law in the world, and win, unknown to himself, her cheerful thanks, by lending Evan to lend to her the sum of one hundred pounds, as she was in absolute distress for money.

‘Really, Louisa, this is a thing you might ask him yourself,’ Evan remonstrated.

‘It would not become me to do so, dear,’ said the Countess, demurely; and inasmuch as she had already drawn on Andrew in her own person pretty largely, her views of propriety were correct in this instance.

Evan had to consent before he could be released.  He ran to the end of the walk through the portal, into the park.  Rose was not to be seen.  She had gone in to dress for dinner.  The opportunity might recur, but would his courage come with it?  His courage had sunk on a sudden; or it may have been that it was worst for this young man to ask for a loan of money, than to tell his beloved that he was basely born, vile, and unworthy, and had snared her into loving him; for when he and Andrew were together, money was not alluded to.  Andrew, however, betrayed remarkable discomposure.  He said plainly that he wanted to leave Beckley Court, and wondered why he didn’t leave, and whether he was on his head or his feet, and how he had been such a fool as to come.

‘Do you mean that for me?’ said sensitive Evan.

‘Oh, you!  You’re a young buck,’ returned Andrew, evasively.  ’We common-place business men-we ’re out of our element; and there’s poor Carry can’t sit down to their dinners without an upset.  I thank God I’m a Radical, Van; one man’s the same as another to me, how he’s born, as long as he’s honest and agreeable.  But a chap like that George Uplift to look down on anybody!  ’Gad, I’ve a good mind to bring in a Bill for the Abolition of the Squirearchy.’

Ultimately, Andrew somehow contrived to stick a hint or two about the terrible dinner in Evan’s quivering flesh.  He did it as delicately as possible, half begging pardon, and perspiring profusely.  Evan grasped his hand, and thanked him.  Caroline’s illness was now explained to him.

‘I’ll take Caroline with me to-morrow,’ he said.  ’Louisa wishes to stay—­there ‘s a pic-nic.  Will you look to her, and bring her with you?’