disgraces of what she may do—and the Devil who
possesses her, only knows what lengths she may
go to next—becomes our disgrace. Good Heavens,
George, consider what a position that is!
Consider what pitch you touch, if you make this
woman your sister-in-law."

"You have put your side of the question,
admiral," said George, resolutely; "now let
me put mine. A certain impression is produced
on me by a young lady, whom I meet with under
very interesting circumstances. I don't act
headlong on that impression, as I might have
done if I had been some years younger—I wait,
and put it to the trial. Every time I see this
young lady, the impression strengthens; her
beauty grows on me, her character grows on me;
when I am away from her I am restless and
dissatisfied; when I am with her I am the happiest
man alive. All I hear of her conduct from those
who know her best, more than confirms the high
opinion I have formed of her. The one drawback
I can discover, is caused by a misfortune
for which she is not responsible—the misfortune
of having a sister who is utterly unworthy of
her. Does this discovery—an unpleasant
discovery, I grant you—destroy all those good
qualities in Miss Vanstone for which I love and
admire her? Nothing of the sort—it only makes
her good qualities all the more precious to me
by contrast. If I am to have a drawback to
contend with—and who expects anything else in
this world?—I would infinitely rather have the
drawback attached to my wife's sister, than to
my wife. My wife's sister is not essential to my
happiness, but my wife is. In my opinion, sir,
Mrs. Noel Vanstone has done mischief enough
already—I don't see the necessity of letting her
do more mischief, by depriving me of a good
wife. Right or wrong, that is my point of view.
I don't wish to trouble you with any questions
of sentiment. All I wish to say is, that I am old
enough, by this time, to know my own mind—
and that my mind is made up. If my marriage
is essential to the execution of your intentions on
my behalf, there is only one woman in the world
whom I can marry—and that woman is Miss
Vanstone."

There was no resisting this plain declaration.
Admiral Bartram rose from his chair without
making any reply, and walked perturbedly up
and down the room.

The situation was emphatically a serious one.
Mrs. Girdlestone's death had already produced
the failure of one of the two objects contemplated
by the Secret Trust. If the third of May
arrived, and found George a single man, the second
(and last) of the objects would then have failed
in its turn. In little more than a fortnight, at
the very latest, the Banns must be published in
Ossory church—or the time would fail for
compliance with one of the stipulations insisted on
in the Trust. Obstinate as the admiral was by
nature, strongly as he felt the objections which
attached to his nephew's contemplated alliance,
he recoiled in spite of himself, as he paced the
room, and saw the facts, on either side, immovably
staring him in the face.

"Are you engaged to Miss Vanstone?" he
asked, suddenly.

"No, sir," replied George. "I thought it due
to your uniform kindness to me, to speak to you
on the subject first."

"Much obliged, I'm sure. And you have put
off speaking to me to the last moment, just as
you put off everything else. Do you think Miss
Vanstone will say Yes, when you ask her?"

George hesitated.

"The devil take your modesty!" shouted the
admiral. "This is not a time for modesty—this
is a time for speaking out. Will she or won't
she?"

"I think she will, sir."

The admiral laughed sardonically, and took
another turn in the room. He suddenly stopped;
put his hands in his pocket; and stood still in a
corner, deep in thought. After an interval of a
few minutes, his face cleared a little: it brightened
with the dawning of a new idea. He walked
round briskly to George's side of the fire, and
laid his hand kindly on his nephew's shoulder.

"You're wrong, George," he said—"but it is
too late now to set you right. On the sixteenth
of next month, the Banns must be put up in
Ossory church, or you will lose the money.
Have you told Miss Vanstone the position you
stand in? Or have you put that off to the
eleventh hour, like everything else?"

"The position is so extraordinary, sir, and it
might lead to so much misapprehension of my
motives, that I have felt unwilling to allude to
it. I hardly know how I can tell her of it at
all."

"Try the experiment of telling her friends.
Let them know it's a question of money; and
they will overcome her scruples, if you can't.
But that is not what I had to say to you. How
long do you propose stopping here, this time?"

"I thought of staying a few days, and
then——"

"And then of going back to London, and
making your offer, I suppose? Will a week
give you time enough to pick your opportunity
with Miss Vanstone—a week out of the fortnight
or so that you have to spare?"

"I will stay here a week, admiral, with
pleasure, if you wish it."

" I don't wish it. I want you to pack up your
traps, and be off to-morrow."

George looked at his uncle, in silent astonishment.

"You found some letters waiting for you, when
you got here," proceeded the admiral. "Was
one of those letters from my old friend, Sir
Franklin Brock?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was it an invitation to you to go and stay
at the Grange?"

"Yes, sir."

"To go at once?"

"At once, if I could manage it."