and had been half-minded to make some apology to him.  But Morton had denied him the opportunity, and he had walked on to his own house,—­low in spirits indeed, but still with none of that sorest of agony which comes to a lover from the feeling that his love loves some one else.  Mary had been very decided with him,—­more so he feared than before; but still he saw no reason why he should not succeed at last.  Mrs. Masters had told him that Mary would certainly give a little trouble in winning, but would be the more worth the winner’s trouble when won.  And she had certainly shown no preference for any other young man about the town.  There had been a moment when he had much dreaded Mr. Surtees.  Young clergymen are apt to be formidable rivals, and Mr. Surtees had certainly made some overtures of friendship to Mary Masters.  But Larry had thought that he had seen that these overtures had not led to much, and then that fear had gone from him.  He did believe that Mary was now angry because she had not been allowed to walk about Bragton with her old friend Mr. Morton.  It had been natural that she should like to do so.  It was the pride of Mary’s life that she had been befriended by the Mortons and Lady Ushant.  But it did not occur to him that he ought to be jealous of Mr. Morton,—­though it had occurred to Kate Masters.

There was very little said between the sisters on their way back to the town.  Mary was pretty sure now that the two girls had made the appointment with Larry, but she was unwilling to question them on the subject.  Immediately on their arrival at home they heard the great news.  John Morton was coming to Bragton with a party of ladies and gentlemen.  Mrs. Hopkins had spoken of four persons.  Mrs. Masters told Mary that there were to be a dozen at least, and that four or five pairs of horses and half a dozen carriages had been ordered from Mr. Runciman.  “He means to cut a dash when he does begin,” said Mrs. Masters.

“Is he going to stay, mother?”

“He wouldn’t come down in that way if it was only for a few days I suppose.  But what they will do for furniture I don’t know.”

“There’s plenty of furniture, mother.”

“A thousand years old.  Or for wine, or fruit, or plate.”

“The old plate was there when Lady Ushant left.”

“People do things now in a very different way from what they used.  A couple of dozen silver forks made quite a show on the old squire’s table.  Now they change the things so often that ten dozen is nothing.  I don’t suppose there’s a bottle of wine in the cellar.”

“They can get wine from Cobbold, mother.”

“Cobbold’s wine won’t go down with them I fancy.  I wonder what servants they’re bringing.”

When Mr. Masters came in from his office the news was corroborated.  Mr. John Morton was certainly coming to Bragton.  The attorney had still a small unsettled and disputed claim against the owner of the property, and he had now received by the day mail an answer to a letter which he had written to Mr. Morton, saying that that gentleman would see him in the course of the next fortnight.