Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

THE COUP DE GRACE. 165
must talk this over again. I must go to Ranford and see Adelaide at once, before this news gets there from other mouths.
Will you meet me at the old hotel in Covent Garden, four days
from this time? "
"Why there?" said William. "Why not at Henley?"
"Why not at London, rather?" replied Charles. "I must go
to London. I mean to go to London. I don't want to lay about
Ranford. No; say London."
William looked in his face for a moment, and then said, " I'd
rather travel with you. You can leave me at Wargrave, which
is only just over the water from Ranford, or at Didcot, while you
go on to Ranford. You must let me do that, Charles."
" We will do that, William, if you like."
"Yes, yes! " said William. "It must be so. Now you must
come down-stairs."
"Why?"
"To eat. Dinner is ready. I am going to tea in the servants'
hall."
" Will Mary be at dinner, William?"
"Of course she will."' Will you let me go for the last time? I should like to see
the dear little face again. Only this once."
" Charles! Don't talk like that. All that this house contains
is yours, and will be as long as Cuthbert and I are here. Of
course you must go. This must not get out for a long while yet,
- we must keep up appearances."
So Charles went down into the drawing-room. It was nearly
dark; and at first he thought there was no one there, but as he
advanced towards the fireplace, he made out a tall, dark figure,
and saw that it was Mackworth.
"I am come, sir," he said, " to dinner in the old room for the
last time forever."
"God forbid!" said Mackworth. "Sir, you have behaved
like a brave man to-day, and I earnestly hope that as long as I
stay in this house, you will be its honored guest. It would be
simply nonsensical to make any excuses to you for the part I
have taken. Even if you had not systematically opposed your
interest to mine in this house, I had no other course open. You
must see that."
" I believe I owe you my thanks for your forbearance so long,"
said Charles; " though that was for the sake of my father more
than myself. Will you tell me, sir, now we are alone, how long
have you known this?"
"Nearly eighteen months," said Father Mackworth, promptly.
Mackworth was not an ill-natured man when he was not opposed, and being a brave man himself, could well appreciate