‘Gracious powers!’ exclaimed the victim of ambition, ’I’m laughed at by the son of a tailor!’ and he edged once more into the shade of trees.

It was a strange sight for Harry’s relatives to see him arm-in-arm with the man he should have been kicking, challenging, denouncing, or whatever the code prescribes:  to see him talking to this young man earnestly, clinging to him affectionately, and when he separated from him, heartily wringing his hand.  Well might they think that there was something extraordinary in these Harringtons.  Convicted of Tailordom, these Harringtons appeared to shine with double lustre.  How was it?  They were at a loss to say.  They certainly could say that the Countess was egregiously affected and vulgar; but who could be altogether complacent and sincere that had to fight so hard a fight?  In this struggle with society I see one of the instances where success is entirely to be honoured and remains a proof of merit.  For however boldly antagonism may storm the ranks of society, it will certainly be repelled, whereas affinity cannot be resisted; and they who, against obstacles of birth, claim and keep their position among the educated and refined, have that affinity.  It is, on the whole, rare, so that society is not often invaded.  I think it will have to front Jack Cade again before another Old Mel and his progeny shall appear.  You refuse to believe in Old Mel?  You know not nature’s cunning.

Mrs. Shorne, Mrs. Melville, Miss Carrington, and many of the guests who observed Evan moving from place to place, after the exposure, as they called it, were amazed at his audacity.  There seemed such a quietly superb air about him.  He would not look out of his element; and this, knowing what they knew, was his offence.  He deserved some commendation for still holding up his head, but it was love and Rose who kept the fires of his heart alive.

The sun had sunk.  The figures on the summit of Parnassus were seen bobbing in happy placidity against the twilight sky.  The sun had sunk, and many of Mr. Raikes’ best things were unspoken.  Wandering about in his gloom, he heard a feminine voice: 

‘Yes, I will trust you.’

‘You will not repent it,’ was answered.

Recognizing the Duke, Mr. Raikes cleared his throat.

’A-hem, your Grace!  This is how the days should pass.  I think we should diurnally station a good London band on high, and play his Majesty to bed—­the sun.  My opinion is, it would improve the crops.  I’m not, as yet, a landed proprietor—­’

The Duke stepped aside with him, and Raikes addressed no one for the next twenty minutes.  When he next came forth Parnassus was half deserted.  It was known that old Mrs. Bonner had been taken with a dangerous attack, and under this third blow the pic-nic succumbed.  Simultaneously with the messenger that brought the news to Lady Jocelyn, one approached Evan, and informed him that the Countess de Saldar urgently entreated him to come to the house without delay.  He also wished to speak a few words to her, and stepped forward briskly.  He had no prophetic intimations of the change this interview would bring upon him.