He had come near disarming me; I was on the edge of a dangerous admiration for this man of the world, and for the life of me, I could not help liking him then.  He had a fine presence, was undeniably handsome, and his riding clothes were of the latest London cut.

“Are there not better methods for obtaining what you wish than those you practise?” I asked curiously.

“No doubt,” he answered carelessly; “but these are well enough, and shorter.  You were about to do me the honour of a communication?”

This brought me to my senses.  I had, however, lost much of my heat in the interval.

“I should like to know why you lied to Mr. Carvel about my convictions, Mr. Allen,” I said.  “I am not of the King’s party now, and never shall be.  And you know this better than another.”

“Those are strong words, Richard, my lad,” said he, bringing his eyebrows together.

“They are true words,” I retorted.  “Why did you lie, I say?”

He said nothing for a while, but his breath came heavily.

“I will pass it, I will pass it,” he said at length, “but, by God! it is more than I have had to swallow in all my life before.  Look at your grandfather, sir!” he cried; “behold him on the very brink of the grave, and ask me again why I lied to him!  His hope of heaven is scarce less sacred to him than his love of the King, and both are so tightly wrapped about his heart that this knowledge of you would break it.  Yes, break his heart, I say” (and he got to his legs), “and you would kill him for the sake of a boyish fancy!”

I knew he was acting, as well as though he had climbed upon the table and said it.  And yet he had struck the very note of my own fears, and hit upon the one reason why I had not confessed lung ago.

“There is more you might have said, Mr. Allen,” I remarked presently; “you have a cause for keeping me under your instruction, and that is behind all.”

He gave me a strange look.

“You are too acute by far,” said he; “your imagination runs with you.  I have said I like you, and I can teach you classics as well as another.  Is it not enough to admit that the money I get for your instruction keeps me in champagne?”

“No, it is not enough,” I said stoutly.

“Then you must guess again, my lad,” he answered with a laugh, and left the room with the easy grace that distinguished him.

There was armed peace the rest of my uncle’s visit.  They departed on the third day.  My Aunt Caroline, when she was not at picquet with Mr. Allen or quarrelling with Mrs. Willis or with Grafton himself, yawned without cessation.  She declared in one of her altercations with her lord and master that she would lose her wits were they to remain another day, a threat that did not seem to move Grafton greatly.  Philip ever maintained the right to pitch it on the side of his own convenience, and he chose in this instance to come to the rescue of his dear mamma, and