“But, in heaven’s name, why would you have me break off with Miss Wyndham, when every one knows I’m engaged to her; and when you know that I wish to marry her?”

“Firstly, to prevent her breaking off with you—­though I fear there’s hardly time for that; and secondly, in consequence—­as the newspapers say, of incompatibility of temper.”

“Why, you don’t even know her!”

“But I know you, and I know what your joint income would be, and I know that there would be great incompatibility between you, as Lord Ballindine, with a wife and family—­and fifteen hundred a year, or so.  But mind, I’m only telling you what I think you’d better do.”

“Well, I shan’t do that.  If I was once settled down, I could live as well on fifteen hundred a year as any country gentleman in Ireland.  It’s only the interference of Lord Cashel that makes me determined not to pull in till I am married.  If he had let me have my own way, I shouldn’t, by this time, have had a horse in the world, except one or two hunters or so, down in the country.”

“Well, Frank, if you’re determined to get yourself married, I’ll give you the best advice in my power as to the means of doing it.  Isn’t that what you want?”

“I want to know what you think I ought to do, just at this minute.”

“With matrimony as the winning-post?”

“You know I wish to marry Fanny Wyndham.”

“And the sooner the better—­is that it?”

“Of course.  She’ll be of age now, in a few days,” replied Lord Ballindine.

“Then I advise you to order a new blue coat, and to buy a wedding-ring.”

“Confusion!” cried Frank, stamping his foot; and turning away in a passion; and then he took up his hat, to rush out of the room, in which the latter part of the conversation had taken place.

“Stop a minute, Frank,” said Blake, “and don’t be in a passion.  What I said was only meant to show you how easy I think it is for you to marry Miss Wyndham if you choose.”

“Easy! and every soul at Grey Abbey turned against me, in consequence of my owning that brute of a horse!  I’ll go over there at once, and I’ll show Lord Cashel that at any rate he shall not treat me like a child.  As for Kilcullen, if he interferes with me or my name in any way, I’ll—­”

“You’ll what?—­thrash him?”

“Indeed, I’d like nothing better!”

“And then shoot him—­be tried by your peers—­and perhaps hung; is that it?”

“Oh, that’s nonsense.  I don’t wish to fight any one, but I am not going to be insulted.”

“I don’t think you are:  I don’t think there’s the least chance of Kilcullen insulting you; he has too much worldly wisdom.  But to come back to Miss Wyndham:  if you really mean to marry her, and if, as I believe, she is really fond of you, Lord Cashel and all the family can’t prevent it.  She is probably angry that you have not been over there; he is probably irate at your staying here, and, not unlikely, has made use of her own anger to make her think that she has quarrelled with you; and hence Kilcullen’s report.”