t standing. His bride-elect sat beside him, her elbow on the table,
her face shaded by her hand.

"On behalf of my dear wife that is to be," said Claud, with a quiet
mastery of himself that was in striking contrast to the old man's
agitation, "and as a grateful duty of my own, I beg to thank you all,
and especially Mr Pennycuick, for this great kindness--for your
generous sympathy with us in our present happiness. Mr Pennycuick seems
to have a doubt--natural to anyone in the circumstances, but inevitable
in a father--the father of such a daughter--as to my being qualified to
appreciate the gift he has just bestowed upon me; I can assure him, and
all of you, that I am overwhelmed with the sense of my good fortune,
and of my unworthiness of it. I am unworthy--I admit it; but it shall
be the business of my life to correct that fault--if it is a fault, and
not merely a misfortune that I cannot help. To the best of my power I
will prove--by deeds, not words--that I do know her value." Deb's hand
under the table here stole towards his that hung at his side, and he
stood holding it until he finished speaking. "Fortune has been kind in
granting me the means to surround her with material comfort--to give so
rare a jewel the setting appropriate to it; for the rest, I must trust
to her generosity. I feel quite safe in trusting to it. We have known
each other--I believe we have loved each other--from childhood; I hope
Mr Pennycuick will take that as some guarantee that his little
misgivings are unnecessary." The orator twisted his moustache, and
glanced down at the bowed head beside him. "She seems to be a little
taken aback by the suddenness of this public announcement, but I can
say that it does not come a moment too soon for me. Mr Pennycuick has
made me a proud man. I glory in my position as his daughter's affianced
husband; I wish to parade it as openly as possible. However, to spare
her, I will say no more just now. Ladies and gentlemen"--bowing to
right and left--"I thank you again."

He sat down amid thunders of applause; and leaning back in his chair,
he looked straight and full at Guthrie Carey. Guthrie Carey, erect,
calm as a stone image, returned the look steadily. There was absolutely
no expression in his eyes.

CHAPTER VIII.

Carey junior joined the Christmas party after breakfast, and was handed
round. Mary introduced him. He was spick-and-span, with shining cheeks
and a damp and glossy top-knot, and his