in a great dinner which he was
about to give to his neighbours.

Mr Moffat was to leave Courcy Castle the day after the dinner-party,
and he therefore determined to make his great attempt on the morning
of that day. It was with some difficulty that he brought about an
opportunity; but at last he did so, and found himself alone with Miss
Dunstable in the walks of Courcy Park.

"It is a strange thing, is it not," said he, recurring to his old
view of the same subject, "that I should be going to dine with the
Duke of Omnium--the richest man, they say, among the whole English
aristocracy?"

"Men of that kind entertain everybody, I believe, now and then," said
Miss Dunstable, not very civilly.

"I believe they do; but I am not going as one of the everybodies.
I am going from Lord de Courcy's house with some of his own family.
I have no pride in that--not the least; I have more pride in my
father's honest industry. But it shows what money does in this
country of ours."

"Yes, indeed; money does a great deal many queer things." In saying
this Miss Dunstable could not but think that money had done a very
queer thing in inducing Miss Gresham to fall in love with Mr Moffat.

"Yes; wealth is very powerful: here we are, Miss Dunstable, the most
honoured guests in the house."

"Oh! I don't know about that; you may be, for you are a member of
Parliament, and all that--"

"No; not a member now, Miss Dunstable."

"Well, you will be, and that's all the same; but I have no such title
to honour, thank God."

They walked on in silence for a little while, for Mr Moffat hardly
knew how to manage the business he had in hand. "It is quite
delightful to watch these people," he said at last; "now they accuse
us of being tuft-hunters."

"Do they?" said Miss Dunstable. "Upon my word I didn't know that
anybody ever so accused me."

"I didn't mean you and me personally."

"Oh! I'm glad of that."

"But that is what the world says of persons of our class. Now it
seems to me that the toadying is all on the other side. The countess
here does toady you, and so do the young ladies."

"Do they? if so, upon my word I didn't know it. But, to tell the
truth, I don't think much of such things. I live mostly to myself, Mr
Moffat."

"I see that you do, and I admire you for it; but, Miss Dunstable, you
cannot always live so," and Mr Moffat looked at her in a manner which
gave her the first intimation of his coming burst of tenderness.

"T