to
marry immediately?'

'Not for the next year, at the very least.'

'Then why enter upon this sordid question of ways and means. Make
Hammond and Mary happy by consenting to their engagement, and trust the
rest to Providence, and to me. Take my word for it, Hammond is not a
beggar, and he is a man likely to make his mark in the world. If a year
hence his income is not enough to allow of his marrying, I will double
Mary's allowance out of my own purse. Hammond's friendship has steadied
me, and saved me a good deal more than five hundred a year.'

'I can quite believe that. I believe Mr. Hammond is a worthy man, and
that his influence has been very good for you; but that does not make
him a good match for Mary. However, you seem to have settled the
business among you, and I suppose I must submit. You had better all
drink tea with me to morrow afternoon; and I will receive your friend as
Mary's future husband.'

'That is the best and kindest of grandmothers.'

'But I should like to know more of his antecedents and his relations.'

'His antecedents are altogether creditable. He took honours at the
University; he has been liked and respected everywhere. He is an orphan,
and it is better not to talk to him of his family. He is sensitive on
that point, like most men who stand alone in the world.'

'Well, I will hold my peace. You have taken this business into your
hands, Maulevrier; and you must be responsible for the result.'

Maulevrier left his grandmother soon after this, and went downstairs,
whistling for very joyousness. Finding the billiard-room deserted he
repaired to the drawing-room, where he found Mary playing scraps of
melody to her lover at the shadowy end of the room, while Fraeulein sat
by the fire weaving her web as steadily as one of the Fatal Sisters, and
with a brow prophetic of evil.

Maulevrier crept up to the piano, and came stealthily behind the lovers.

'Bless you, my children,' he said, hovering over them with outspread
hands. 'I am the dove coming back to the ark. I am the bearer of happy
tidings. Lady Maulevrier consents to your acquiring the legal right to
make each other miserable for the rest of your lives.'

'God bless you, Maulevrier,' said Hammond, clasping him by the hand.

'Only as this sister of mine is hardly out of the nursery you will have
to wait for her at least a year. So says the dowager, whose word is like
the law of the Modes and Persians, and altereth not.'

'I woul