“Remote ones—­the remoter the better.  I won’t count on dead men’s shoes,” said John.

“What is it your little fortune-teller at the Castle calls you?” asked Lady Blanchemain, shrewdly, her dark old eyebrows up.

“She calls me lucus a non lucendo,” was John’s quick riposte; and the lady laughed.

But in a moment she pulled a straight face.  “I seriously counsel you to have more faith,” she said.  “Go home and ask her to marry you; and if she accepts,—­you’ll see.  Money will come.  Besides, your rank and your prospective rank are assets which you err in not adding to the balance.  Go home, and propose to her.”

“’Twould do no good,” said John, dejectedly.  “She regards me with imperturbable indifference.  I’ve made the fieriest avowals to her, and she’s never turned a hair.”

Lady Blanchemain looked bewildered.  “You’ve made avowals—?” she falteringly echoed.

“I should rather think so,” John affirmed.  “Indirect ones, of course, and I hope inoffensive, but fiery as live coals.  In the third person, you know.  I’ve given her two and two; she has, you may be sure, enough skill in mathematics to put ’em together.”

“And she never turned a hair?” the lady marvelled.

“She jeered at me, she mocked me, she laughed and rode away,” said he.

“She’s probably in love with you,” said Lady Blanchemain.  “If a woman will listen, if a woman will laugh!  If you don’t propose to her now, having ensnared her young affections, you’ll be something worse than the wicked nobleman of song and story.”

“Oh, well,” John responded, conciliatory, “I dare say some of these days a proposal will slip out when I least intend it.  So I shall have done the honourable thing—­and I’m sure I can trust her to play fair and say me nay.”

Lady Blanchemain slowly shook her head.  “I’m glad you’re not my lover,” she devoutly murmured, plying her fan.

“Oh, but I am,” cried John, with a bow, and an admiring flash of the eyes.

Her soft old face lighted up; then it took on an expression of resolution, and she set her strong old jaws.

“In that case,” she remarked, “you will have the less reluctance in granting a favour I’m about to ask you.”

“What’s the favour?” said John, in a tone of readiness.

“I want you to buy a pig in a poke,” said she.

“Oh?” questioned he.

“Yes,” said she.  “I want you to make me a promise blindfold.  I want you to promise in the dark that you will do something.  What it is that you’re to do you’re not to know till the time comes.  Will you promise?”

“Dearest lady,” said the trustful young man, “I’m perfectly confident that you would never ask me to do anything that I couldn’t do with profit to myself.  Buy a pig in a poke?  From you, without a moment’s hesitation.  Of course I promise.”

“Bravo, bravo,” applauded Lady Blanchemain, glowing at her easy triumph.  “In a few days you’ll receive a letter.  That will tell you what it is you’re pledged to.  And now, to reward you, come with me to my sitting-room, and I will make you a little present.”