came round to the door. "If you like
to get up behind," said the Marquis, "I can take you back to Cross
Hall, as I am going to see my mother. Perhaps you'll remember that I
wish to be alone with her." Lord George then expressed his preference
for walking. "Just as you please. I want to say a word. Of course I
took it very ill of you all when you insisted on keeping Cross Hall in
opposition to my wishes. No doubt they acted on your advice."

"Partly so."

"Exactly; your's and Sarah's. You can't expect me to forget it,
George;--that's all." Then he walked out of the room among the
servants, giving his brother no opportunity for further reply.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE MARQUIS GOES INTO BROTHERTON.

The poor dear old Marchioness must have had some feeling that she was
regarded as a spy. She had promised to tell everything to her eldest
son, and though she had really nothing to tell, though the Marquis did
in truth know all that there was as yet to know, still there grew up at
Cross Hall a sort of severance between the unhappy old lady and her
children. This showed itself in no diminution of affectionate
attention; in no intentional change of manner; but there was a
reticence about the Marquis and Popenjoy which even she perceived, and
there crept into her mind a feeling that Mrs. Toff was on her guard
against her,--so that on two occasions she almost snubbed Mrs. Toff. "I
never see'd him, my Lady; what more can I say?" said Mrs. Toff. "Toff,
I don't believe you wanted to see your master's son and heir!" said the
Marchioness. Then Mrs. Toff pursed up her lips, and compressed her
nose, and half-closed her eyes, and the Marchioness was sure that Mrs.
Toff did not believe in Popenjoy.

No one but Lord George had seen Popenjoy. To no eyes but his had the
august baby been displayed. Of course many questions had been asked,
especially by the old lady, but the answers to them had not been
satisfactory. "Dark, is he?" asked the Marchioness. Lord George replied
that the child was very swarthy. "Dear me! That isn't like the
Germains. The Germains were never light, but they're not swarthy. Did
he talk at all?" "Not a word." "Did he play about?" "Never was out of
the nurse's arms." "Dear me! Was he like Brotherton?" "I don't think I
am a judge of likenesses." "He's a healthy child?" "I can't say. He
seemed to be a good deal done up with finery." Then the Marchioness
declared that her younger son showed an unnatural indifferen