Sir Rowley was a high-minded gentleman, who would have liked to
have handed over a few thousand pounds on giving up his daughters;
but, having no thousands of pounds to hand over, he could not but
admire the principles of his proposed son-in-law. As it was about
time for him to have his leave of absence, he and sundry of the girls
went to England with Mr Trevelyan, and the wedding was celebrated
in London by the Rev. Oliphant Outhouse, of Saint Diddulph-in-the-East,
who had married Sir Rowley's sister. Then a small house was taken
and furnished in Curzon Street, Mayfair, and the Rowleys went back
to the seat of their government, leaving Nora, the second girl, in
charge of her elder sister.

The Rowleys had found, on reaching London, that they had lighted
upon a pearl indeed. Louis Trevelyan was a man of whom all people
said all good things. He might have been a fellow of his college
had he not been a man of fortune. He might already, so Sir Rowley
was told, have been in Parliament, had he not thought it to be
wiser to wait awhile. Indeed, he was very wise in many things. He
had gone out on his travels thus young, not in search of excitement,
to kill beasts, or to encounter he knew not what novelty and
amusement, but that he might see men and know the world. He had
been on his travels for more than a year when the winds blew him
to the Mandarins. Oh, how blessed were the winds! And, moreover,
Sir Rowley found that his son-in-law was well spoken of at the
clubs by those who had known him during his university career, as
a man popular as well as wise, not a book-worm, or a dry philosopher,
or a prig. He could talk on all subjects, was very generous, a
man sure to be honoured and respected; and then such a handsome,
manly fellow, with short brown hair, a nose divinely chiselled, an
Apollo's mouth, six feet high, with shoulders and legs and arms in