“Max, she has consented at last!” Adrian said joyfully. “She says she will marry me as soon as I come of age!”

Ravenscar’s eyes remained fixed on the handsome young face confronting him, a startled expression in them. “Is that all she said?” he demanded.

“Good God, what more could I desire to hear from her? What a fellow you are, to be sure! She considers it would be unwise to announce the betrothal, but she made no objection to my telling you, and my mother, of course.”

“Oh, she made no objection to that? You said, in fact, that you would tell me?”

“Yes, certainly, and she said I might do so with her good will. Max, I am the happiest man alive! And that is why I cannot go with your party to Vauxhall.. I knew you would understand! Deb has a great fancy to go there, and I am to escort her. I am off now to bespeak a box, and supper. Bu first we must drink to my betrothal!”

Ravenscar picked up his glass. “I will drink to your future happiness,” he said.

Adrian tossed off his wine, and set the glass down. “Well that is the same thing. I must be off! I shall see you in a day or two, I dare say.”

“At Vauxhall, no doubt. Do you value my advice?”

“Why, you know I do!” Adrian said, pausing, with his hand on the door, and looking back.

“Say nothing of this to your mother.”

“Oh, you are too late! I have told her! Of course, she don’ like it, but only wait until she is acquainted with Deb! She will very soon change her opinion.”

It was fortunate that he was in haste to be off, and so did no wait long enough to see the expression in his cousin’s face look of contemptuous disbelief made Mr Ravenscar appear rather saturnine, and must have startled his unsuspicious relative. But he went away in happy ignorance of Ravenscar’s thoughts, bent only on making every arrangement for Miss Grantham’s entertainment on the following evening.

He left his cousin a prey to conflicting emotions. Rage at Miss Grantham for having countered his attack so swiftly rage at her impudence in encouraging Adrian to inform him o: the engagement, struggled with the first tiny shoots of the seed of doubt in his mind. It might be that Deborah was seeking to force up her price: but could she possibly hope for a larger sum than had already been offered to her? Considering this, he recalled that she had rallied him, on their first meeting on being the rich Mr Ravenscar. She had heard him lay a preposterous bet; perhaps she imagined that his fondness for Adrian would induce him to lay out some vast sum for his redemption. She should discover her mistake! But she had no told Adrian of her drive with him in the Park that morning He was unable to find a motive to account for this forbearance In his present white-hot ardour, Adrian would most assuredly have taken up the cudgels in her defence. She could have had nothing whatsoever to fear through laying bare the whole to Adrian, and she must have known this. What the devil was the wench up to? She might have destroyed at a blow any influence he had ever had over Adrian, and, incalculably, she had refrained from doing it. Mr Ravenscar began, reluctantly, to feel interested in the working of Miss Grantham’s mind.

The knowledge that Adrian had informed his parent of Deborah’s acceptance of his hand prepared Ravenscar for the inevitable sequel. Before the day was out, Lady Mablethorpe’s lozenge-carriage had drawn up in Grosvenor Square, and her ladyship, awe-inspiring in purple lusting and nodding plumes, was demanding to see her nephew.

Her call followed hard upon the arrival from Tunbridge Wells of Mrs and Miss Ravenscar, and she entered the house to find herself in a hall piled high with cloak-bags, portmanteaus, and band-boxes, which several harassed servants were endeavouring to remove with all possible dispatch. She was annoyed to find that she had mistimed her visit, but after a moment’s hesitation she decided to remain, and requested the butler to send in her card to Mrs Ravenscar.

She was almost immediately desired to step upstairs to the drawing-room, where she found her sister-in-law lying on a satin sofa, with her smelling-salts in her hand, and a glass of ratafia-and-water on a small table beside her. Chattering animatedly to Ravenscar, by the window, her niece, Arabella, presented an agreeable picture in a flowered gown with fluttering ribbons, and a demure fichu round her neck.

Miss Ravenscar bore very little resemblance to her mother, who was a classically beautiful woman of pale colouring, and rather expressionless features. Miss Ravenscar was a tiny brunette, with the most vivid, mischievous little face imaginable. She was quite as dark as her half-brother, and much better looking. Her short upper lip had the most enchanting lift; her pansy-eyes sparkled as she talked, and a pair of dimples played at hide-and-seek at the corners of her mouth. When she caught sight of her aunt, she came running across the room to meet her, crying: “Oh, my dear Aunt Selina, how pleased I am to see you again! Oh, dearest aunt, I declare I never saw such a terrifying bonnet! It makes me quite frightened of you! I wonder my cousin will let you wear such an abominable thing!”

“Arabella, my love!” expostulated Mrs Ravenscar, in feeble accents.

But Arabella’s lilting smile and warm embrace quite robbed her impertinent speech of offence. Lady Mablethorpe patted her indulgently, calling her a naughty puss, and trod over to the sofa to kiss her sister-in-law’s faded cheek. Privately, she considered that Olivia might very well have risen to welcome her, but she made no comment, merely remarking that she was sorry to see her looking so poorly.

“It was the journey,” explained Mrs Ravenscar, in a gently complaining tone. “I have been telling Max he must positively have the coach-springs attended to. I thought I should have been shattered by the jolting. You must excuse my receiving you upon my sofa, but you know how the least exertion prostrates me, my dear Selina. Do, pray, be seated. How noisy it is in town! I do not know how my nerves will support it. I am conscious of all the bustle already.”

Lady Mablethorpe had-little patience with such fancies, but she was a civil woman, and for the next few minutes she listened with outward sympathy to a description of the many and varied ailments which had overtaken her sister-in-law since their last meeting.

Arabella broke in presently on her mother’s lamentations, exclaiming: “Oh, Mama, you know it is quite decided that you are not going to find London too fatiguing for you this time! I am so happy to be here again! I mean to go to all the balls, and the ridottos, and the masquerades, and the theatres, and—oh, everything! And you know you are to go with me to all the best warehouses to choose the stuffs for my new dresses, for I declare I have not a rag to my back, and no one has such good taste as you, dearest!”

Mrs Ravenscar smiled faintly, but said that she feared her health would break down under the strain.

“Well, if it does, Arabella knows she may count upon me,”, said Lady Mablethorpe bracingly. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than to take the child about a little. I have often been sorry that I had never a daughter.”

This was not strictly true, but it had the effect of making Arabella hug her ruthlessly, and call her darling aunt. Lady Mablethorpe was more than ever convinced that it would be the greatest shame if the sweet child were not to be her daughter-in-law.

This reflection brought to her mind the purpose of her visit, and she cast a glance towards Ravenscar, so fraught with meaning that he could scarcely have remained oblivious of it. He contrived, however, to appear unaware of the silent message thus conveyed to him, and her ladyship was obliged to request the favour of a few words with him.

“Certainly,” he said. “Will you come down to the library, ma’am?”

She accepted this not very cordial invitation, and made her excuses to Mrs Ravenscar, promising to visit her again when she should have had time to settle down.

Ravenscar led the way downstairs, and ushered his aunt into the library. She barely waited for him to close the door before saying: “I would not for the world mention the matter before that dear child! But the most shocking thing has happened, Max!”

“I know it,” he replied. “Miss Grantham has accepted Adrian’s offer.”

“You told me you would see the woman, Max!”

“I did see her.”

“But you did nothing! I quite depended on you! I was never so mortified!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. My efforts on your behalf have so far been entirely unavailing. Miss Grantham will not be bought off.”

“Good God!” said her ladyship, sinking down on to the nearest chair. “Then we are lost indeed! What is to be done?”

“I do not see that you can do anything to the purpose. You had better leave it in my hands. I am determined Adrian shall not lead that woman to the altar.”

Lady Mablethorpe shuddered. “Is she dreadful?”

“She is an impudent strumpet!” said Mr Ravenscar coldly.

“Really, Max! Not that I doubt it! I always knew she was a hateful creature. Tell me about her! Is she beautiful, or is that poor Adrian’s folly?”

“No, she is extremely handsome,” responded Ravenscar.

“In a vulgar style, I conclude? A painted hussy?”

“No. She is not painted. I cannot say that I found her vulgar at our first meeting. She has a pleasant way; her manners are a little free, but not disagreeably so; her voice is good; her air and countenance quite distinguished. As far as appearances go, she will do very well.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” gasped his aunt.

“No, I haven’t. I said, as far as appearances go. Under this not unprepossessing exterior, she is a harpy.”