“You see, Armstrong, that pettifogging schemer told me he didn’t wish me to come to his house again, and I wouldn’t, even for Fanny Wyndham, force myself into any man’s house.  He would not let me see her when I was there, and I could not press it, because her brother was only just dead; so I’m obliged to take her refusal second hand.  Now I don’t believe she ever sent the message he gave me.  I think he has made her believe that I’m deserting and ill-treating her; and in this way she may be piqued and tormented into marrying Kilcullen.”

“I see it now:  upon my word then Lord Cashel knows how to play his cards!  But if I go to Grey Abbey I can’t see her without seeing him.”

“Of course not—­but I’m coming to that.  You see, I have no reason to doubt Fanny’s love; she has assured me of it a thousand times.  I wouldn’t say so to you even, as it looks like boasting, only it’s so necessary you should know how the land lies; besides, everybody knew it; all the world knew we were engaged.”

“Oh, boasting—­it’s no boasting at all:  it would be very little good my going to Grey Abbey, if she had not told you so.”

“Well, I think that if you were to see Lord Cashel and tell him, in your own quiet way, who you are; that you are rector of Ballindine, and my especial friend; and that you had come all the way from County Mayo especially to see Miss Wyndham, that you might hear from herself whatever message she had to send to me—­if you were to do this, I don’t think he would dare to prevent you from seeing her.”

“If he did, of course I would put it to him that you, who were so long received as Miss Wyndham’s accepted swain, were at least entitled to so much consideration at her hands; and that I must demand so much on your behalf, wouldn’t that be it, eh?”

“Exactly.  I see you understand it, as if you’d been at it all your life; only don’t call me her swain.”

“Well, I’ll think of another word—­her beau.”

“For Heaven’s sake, no!—­that’s ten times worse.”

“Well, her lover?”

“That’s at any rate English:  but say, her accepted husband—­that’ll be true and plain:  if you do that I think you will manage to see her, and then—­”

“Well, then—­for that’ll be the difficult part.”

“Oh, when you see her, one simple word will do:  Fanny Wyndham loves plain dealing.  Merely tell her that Lord Ballindine has not changed his mind; and that he wishes to know from herself, by the mouth of a friend whom he can trust, whether she has changed hers.  If she tells you that she has, I would not follow her farther though she were twice as rich as Croesus.  I’m not hunting her for her money; but I am determined that Lord Cashel shall not make us both miserable by forcing her into a marriage with his roue of a son.”

“Well, Ballindine, I’ll go; but mind, you must not blame me if I fail.  I’ll do the best I can for you.”