Then there came to him a letter from the earl which instantly effected a great change in all his feelings; which taught him to regard Australia as a dream, and almost put him into a good humour with Cradell.  The earl had by no means lost sight of his friend’s interests at Allington; and, moreover, those interests were now backed by an ally who in this matter must be regarded as much more powerful than the earl.  The squire had given in his consent to the Eames alliance.

The earl’s letter was as follows:—­

   GUESTWICK MANOR, April, 18—.

   MY DEAR JOHN,

I told you to write to me again, and you haven’t done it.  I saw your mother the other day, or else you might have been dead for anything I knew.  A young man always ought to write letters when he is told to do so.

Eames, when he had got so far, felt himself rather aggrieved by this rebuke, knowing that he had abstained from writing to his patron simply from an unwillingness to intrude upon him with his letters.  “By Jove, I’ll write to him every week of his life, till he’s sick of me,” Johnny said to himself when he found himself thus instructed as to a young man’s duties.

And now I have got to tell you a long story, and I should like it much better if you were down here, so that I might save myself the trouble; but you would think me ill-natured if I were to keep you waiting.  I happened to meet Mr Dale the other day, and he said that he should be very glad if a certain young lady would make up her mind to listen to a certain young friend of mine.  So I asked him what he meant to do about the young lady’s fortune, and he declared himself willing to give her a hundred a year during his life, and to settle four thousand pounds upon her after his death.  I said that I would do as much on my part by the young man; but as two hundred a year, with your salary, would hardly give you enough to begin with, I’ll make mine a hundred and fifty.  You’ll be getting up in your office soon, and with five hundred a year you ought to be able to get along; especially as you need not insure your life.  I should live somewhere near Bloomsbury Square at first, because I’m told you can get a house for nothing.  After all, what’s fashion worth?  You can bring your wife down here in the autumn, and have some shooting.  She won’t let you go to sleep under the trees, I’ll be bound.

But you must look after the young lady.  You will understand that no one has said a word to her about it; or, if they have, I don’t know it.  You’ll find the squire on your side.  That’s all.  Couldn’t you manage to come down this Easter?  Tell old Buffle, with my compliments, that I want you.  I’ll write to him if you like it.  I did know him at one time, though I can’t say I was ever fond of him.  It stands to reason that you can’t get on with Miss Lily without seeing her; unless, indeed, you like better to write to her, which always seems to me to be very poor sort