"Going?" she said, a little sadly.

"I shall be back in two days," Arnold whispered. "It's all right! Sir
Patrick consents."

She held him fast by the arm. The hurried parting before other people
seemed to be not a parting to Blanche's taste.

"You will lose the train!" cried Sir Patrick.

Geoffrey seized Arnold by the arm which Blanche was holding, and
tore him--literally tore him--away. The two were out of sight, in the
shrubbery, before Blanche's indignation found words, and addressed
itself to her uncle.

"Why is that brute going away with Mr. Brinkworth?" she asked.

"Mr. Delamayn is called to London by his father's illness," replied Sir
Patrick. "You don't like him?"

"I hate him!"

Sir Patrick reflected a little.

"She is a young girl of eighteen," he thought to himself. "And I am an
old man of seventy. Curious, that we should agree about any thing. More
than curious that we should agree in disliking Mr. Delamayn."

He roused himself, and looked again at Blanche. She was seated at the
table, with her head on her hand; absent, and out of spirits--thinking