may devour. All these varied excellences Eugene had had full
opportunities of appreciating, for Kate was a distant cousin of his on
the mother's side, and had spent a large part of the last few years at
the Manor. It was, in fact, so obviously the duty of the two young
people to fall in love with one another, that the surprise exhibited by
their friends could only have been based on a somewhat cynical view of
humanity. The cynics ought to have considered themselves confuted by the
_fait accompli_, but they refused to do so, and, led by Sir Roderick
Ayre, had been known to descend to laying five to four against the
permanency of the engagement--an obviously coarse and improper
proceeding.

It is possible that the odds might have risen a point or two, had these
reprehensible persons been present at the little scene which occurred on
the terrace, whither the girls had betaken themselves, and Eugene in his
turn repaired when he had armed himself with Tennyson. As he approached
Claudia rose to go and leave the lovers to themselves.

"Don't go, Lady Claudia," said Eugene. "I'm not going to read anything
you ought not to hear."

Of course it was the right thing for Claudia to go, and she knew it. But
she was a mischievous body, and the sight of a cloud on Kate's brow had
upon her exactly the opposite effect to what it ought to have had.

"You don't really want me to stay, do you? Wouldn't you two rather be
alone?" she asked.

"Much rather have you," Eugene answered.