flashed
upon him. Their marriage doubtless depended upon this success. He knew
something of Arundel Dacre, and had heard more. He was convinced of the
truth of his suspicion. Either the nephew would not claim her hand
until he had carved out his own fortunes, or perhaps the uncle made his
distinction the condition of his consent. Yet this was odd. It was all
odd. A thousand things had occurred which equally puzzled him. Yet he
had seen enough to weigh against a thousand thoughts.

CHAPTER VI.

_A Generous Action_

ANOTHER fortnight glided away, and he was still at the Castle, still the
constant and almost sole companion of May Dacre. It is breakfast; the
servant is delivering the letter-bag to Mr. Dacre. Interesting moment!
when you extend your hand for the billet of a mistress, and receive your
tailor's bill! How provokingly slow are most domestic chieftains in this
anxious operation! They turn the letters over and over, and upside and
down; arrange, confuse, mistake, assort; pretend, like Champollion, to
decipher illegible franks, and deliver with a slight remark, which is
intended as a friendly admonition, the documents of the unlucky wight
who encourages unprivileged correspondents.

A letter was delivered to Miss Dacre. She started, exclaimed, blushed,
and tore it open.

'Only you, only you,' she said, extending her hand to the young Duke,
'only you were capable of this!'

It was a letter from Arundel Dacre, not only written but franked by him.

It explained everything that the Duke of St. James might have told them
before; but he preferred hearing all himself, from the delighted and
delightful lips of Miss Dacre, who read to her father her cousin's
letter.

The Duke of St. James had returned him for one of his Cornish boroughs.
It appeared that Lord St. Maurice was the previous member, who had
accepted the Chiltern Hundreds in his favour.

'You were determined to surprise, as well as delight us,' said Mr.
Dacre.

'I am no admirer of mysteries,' said the Duke; 'but the fact is, in
the present case, it was not in my power to give you any positive
information, and I had no desire to provide you, after your late
disappointment, with new sources of anxiety. The only person I could
take the liberty with, at so short a notice, was St. Maurice. He, you
know, is a Liberal; but he cannot forget that he is the son of a Tory,
and has no great ambition to take any active part in affairs at present.
I a