not at all believe that Tom Delamere would make a fit husband for Clara
Pemberton; but his opinion would have had no weight,--he could hardly
have expressed it without showing his own interest. Moreover, there was
no element of the sneak in Lee Ellis's make-up. The very fact that he
might profit by the other's discomfiture left Delamere secure, so far as
he could be affected by anything that Ellis might say. But Ellis did not
shrink from a fair fight, and though in this one the odds were heavily
against him, yet so long as this engagement remained indefinite, so
long, indeed, as the object of his love was still unwed, he would not
cease to hope. Such a sacrifice as this marriage clearly belonged in the
catalogue of impossibilities. Ellis had not lived long enough to learn
that impossibilities are merely things of which we have not learned, or
which we do not wish to happen.

Sandy returned at the end of a quarter of an hour, and dinner was
announced. Mr. Delamere led the way to the dining-room with Mrs.
Ochiltree. Tom followed with Clara. The major went to the head of the
stairs and came down with Mrs. Carteret upon his arm, her beauty
rendered more delicate by the pallor of her countenance and more
complete by the happiness with which it glowed. Ellis went in alone. In
the rector's absence it was practically a family party which sat down,
with the exception of Ellis, who, as we have seen, would willingly have
placed himself in the same category.

The table was tastefully decorated with flowers, which grew about the
house in lavish profusion. In warm climates nature adorns herself with
true feminine vanity.

"What a beautiful table!" exclaimed Tom, before they were seated.