e a miracle," he said, "and I hate miracles. I'll come and see
Lady Dominey in a day or so."

CHAPTER XII

Dominey spent a curiously placid, and, to those with whom he was brought
into contact, an entirely satisfactory afternoon. With Mr. Mangan by
his side, murmuring amiable platitudes, and Mr. Johnson, his agent,
opposite, revelling in the unusual situation of a satisfied landlord and
delighted tenants, he made practically the entire round of the Dominey
estates. They reached home late, but Dominey, although he seemed to
be living in another world, was not neglectful of the claims of
hospitality. Probably for the first time in their lives, Mr. Johnson
and Lees, the bailiff, watched the opening of a magnum of champagne. Mr.
Johnson cleared his throat as he raised his glass.

"It isn't only on my own account, Sir Everard," he said, "that I drink
your hearty good health. I have your tenants too in my mind. They've
had a rough time, some of them, and they've stood it like white men.
So here's from them and me to you, sir, and may we see plenty of you in
these parts."

Mr. Lees associated himself with these sentiments, and the glasses were
speedily emptied and filled again.

"I suppose you know, Sir Everard," the agent observed, "that what you've
promised to do to-day will cost a matter of ten to fifteen thousand
pounds."

Dominey nodded.

"Before I go to bed to-night," he said, "I shall send a cheque for
twenty thousand pounds to the estate account at your bank at Wells. The
money is there waiting, put aside for just that one purpose and--well,
you may just as well have it."

Agent and bailiff leaned back in the tonneau of their motor-car, half an
hour later, with immense cigars in their mouths and a pleasant, rippling
warmth in their veins. They had the sense of having drifted into
fairyland. Their philosophy, however, met the situation.

"It's a fair miracle," Mr. Lees declared.

"A modern romance," Mr. Johnson, who read novels, murmured. "Hello,
here's a visitor for the Hall," he added, as a car swept by them.

"Comfortable-looking gent, too," Mr. Lees remarked.

The "comfortable-looking gent" was Otto Seaman, who presented himself at
the Hall with a small dressing-bag and a great many apologies.

"Found myself in Norwich, Sir Everard," he explained. "I have done
business there all my life, and one of my customers needed looking
after. I finished early, and when I found that I was only thirty miles