His father turned his head away and sighed softly, and that sigh seemed
to lift a ton's weight off his heart.

"I am glad to hear it," he answered simply, "the rest must settle
itself. By the way, if you are going up to the house, tell the cook that
I have changed my mind, we will have the soles fried with lemon; she
always makes a mess of them 'au maitre d'hotel.'"



CHAPTER V

A PROPOSAL AND A PROMISE

Although it consisted of but a dozen people, the dinner-party at the
Abbey that night was something of a function. To begin with, the old
refectory, with its stone columns and arches still standing as they
were in the pre-Reformation days, lit with cunningly-arranged and shaded
electric lights designed and set up by Morris, was an absolutely
ideal place in which to dine. Then, although the Monk family were
impoverished, they still retained the store of plate accumulated by past
generations. Much of this silver was old and very beautiful, and when
set out upon the great side-boards produced an affect well suited to
that chamber and its accessories. The company also was pleasant and
presentable. There were the local baronet and his wife; the two beauties
of the neighbourhood, Miss Jane Rose and Miss Eliza Layard, with their
respective belongings; the clergyman of the parish, a Mr. Tomley, who
was leaving the county for the north of England on account of his wife's
health; and a clever and rising young doctor from the county town.