"Ease!--rest! All a mistake, sir. Great business men can't exist in that lethargy called leisure."

"You are quite wrong, Hankes; if I were the master of some venerable old demesne, like this, for instance, with its timber of centuries' growth, and its charms of scenery, such as we see around us here, I 'd ask no better existence than to pass my days in calm retirement, invite a stray friend or two to come and see me, and with books and other resources hold myself aloof from stocks and statecraft, and not so much as ask how are the Funds or who is the Minister."

"I 'd be sorry to see you come to that, sir, I declare I should," said Hankes, earnestly.

"You may live to see it, notwithstanding," said Dunn, with a placid smile.

"Ah, sir," said Hankes, "it's not the man who has just conceived such a grand idea as this "--and he touched the books before him--"ought to talk about turning hermit."

"We'll see, Hankes,--we'll see," said Dunn, calmly. "There come the post-horses--I suppose for you."

"Yes, sir; I ordered them to be here at six. I thought I should have had a couple of hours in bed by that time; but it does n't signify, I can sleep anywhere."

"Let me see," said Dunn, calculating. "This is Tuesday; now, Friday ought to be the day, the news to reach me on Thursday afternoon; you can send a telegraphic message and then send on a clerk. Of course, you will know how to make these communications properly. It is better I should remain here in the interval; it looks like security."

"Do you mean to come over yourself, sir?"

"Of course I do. You must meet me there on Friday morning. Let Mrs.

Hailes have the house in readiness in case I might invite any one."

"All shall be attended to ir," said Hankes. "I think I'll despatch Wilkins to you with the news; he's an awful fellow to exaggerate evil tidings."

"Very well," said Dunn. "Good-night, or, I opine, rather, good-morning."

And he turned away into his bedroom.

CHAPTER XLIII. THE GARDEN

From the moment that Mr. Davenport Dunn announced he would still continue to enjoy the hospitality of the Hermitage, a feeling of intimacy grew up between himself and his host that almost savored of old friendship. Lord Glengariff already saw in the distance wealth and affluence; he had secured a co-operation that never knew failure,--the one man whose energies could always guarantee success.

It was true, Dunn had not directly pledged himself to anything; he had listened and questioned and inquired and reflected, but given nothing like a definite opinion, far less a promise. But, as the old Lord said, "These fellows are always cautious, always reserved; and whenever they do not oppose, it may be assumed that they concur. At all events, we must manage with delicacy; there must be no haste, no importunity; the best advocacy we can offer to our plans is to make his visit here as agreeable as possible." Such was the wise counsel he gave his daughter as they strolled through the garden after breakfast, talking over the character and the temperament of their guest.

"By George, Gusty!" cried Lord Glengariff, after a moment's silence, "I cannot yet persuade myself that this is 'Old Davy,' as you and the girls used to call him long ago. Of all the miraculous transformations I have ever witnessed, none of them approaches this!"

"It is wonderful, indeed!" said she, slowly.

"It is not that he has acquired or increased his stock of knowledge,--that would not have puzzled me so much, seeing the life of labor he has led,--but I go on asking myself what has become of his former self, of which not a trace nor vestige remains? Where is his shy, hesitating manner, his pedantry, his suspicion,--where the intense eagerness to learn what was going on in the house? You remember how his prying disposition used to worry us?"

"I remember," said she, in a low voice.

"There is something, now, in his calm, quiet deportment very like dignity. I protest I should--seeing him for the first time--call him a well-bred man."

"Certainly," said she, in the same tone.

"As little was I prepared for the frank and open manner in which he spoke to me of himself."

"Has he done so?" asked she, with some animation.

"Yes; with much candor, and much good sense too. He sees the obstacles he has surmounted in life, and he just as plainly perceives those that are not to be overcome."

"What may these latter be?" asked she, cautiously.

"It is pretty obvious what they are," said he, half pettishly,--"his family; his connections; his station, in fact."

"How did he speak of these,--in what terms, I mean?"

"Modestly and fairly. He did not conceal what he owned to feel as certain hardships, but he was just enough to acknowledge that our social system was a sound one, and worked well."

"It was a great admission," said she, with a very faint smile.

"The Radical crept out only once," said the old Lord, laughing at the recollection. "It was when I remarked that an ancient nobility, like a diamond, required centuries of crystallization to give it lustre and coherence. 'It were well to bear in mind, my Lord,' said he, 'that it began by being only charcoal.'"

She gave a low, quiet laugh, but said nothing.

"He has very sound notions in many things,--very sound, indeed. I wish, with all my heart, that more of the class he belongs to were animated with _his_ sentiments. He is no advocate for pulling down; moderate, reasonable changes,--changes in conformity with the spirit of the age, in fact,--these he advocates. As I have already said, Gusty, these men are only dangerous when our own exclusiveness has made them so. Treat them fairly, admit them to your society, listen to their arguments, refute them, show them where they have mistaken us, and they are _not_ dangerous."

"I suppose you are right," said she, musingly.

"Another thing astonishes me: he has no pride of purse about him; at least, I cannot detect it. He talks of money reasonably and fairly, acknowledges what it can and what it cannot do--"

"And what, pray, is that?" broke she in, hastily.

"I don't think there can be much dispute on _that_ score!" said he, in a voice of pique. "The sturdiest advocate for the power of wealth never presumed to say it could make a man,--one of us!" said he, after a pause, that sent the blood to his face.

"But it can, and does, every day," said she, resolutely. "Our peerage is invigorated by the wealth as well as by the talent of the class beneath it; and if Mr. Dunn be the millionnaire that common report proclaims him, I should like to know why that wealth, and all the influence that it wields, should not be associated with the institutions to which we owe our stability."

"The wealth and the influence if you like, only not himself," said the Earl, with a saucy laugh. "My dear Augusta," he added, in a gentle tone, "he is a most excellent and a very useful man--where he is. The age suits him, and he suits the age. We live in stirring times, when these sharp intellects have an especial value."

"You talk as if these men were _your_ tools. Is it not just possible you may be _theirs?_" said she, impatiently.

"What monstrous absurdity is this, child!" replied he, angrily. "It is--it is downright--" he grew purple in the endeavor to find the right word,--"downright Chartism!"

"If so, the Chartists have more of my sympathy than I was aware of."

Fortunately for both, the sudden appearance of Dunn himself put an end to a discussion which each moment threatened to become perilous, and whose unpleasant effects were yet visible on their faces. Lord Glengariff had not sufficiently recovered his composure to do more than salute Mr. Dunn; while Lady Augusta's confusion was even yet more marked. They had not walked many steps in company, when Lord Glengariff was recalled to the cottage by the visit of a neighboring magistrate, and Lady Augusta found herself alone with Mr. Dunn.

"I am afraid, Lady Augusta," said he, timidly, "my coming up was inopportune. I suspect I must have interrupted some confidential conversation."

"No, nothing of the kind," said she, frankly. "My father and I were discussing what we can never agree upon, and what every day seems to widen the breach of opinion between us, and I am well pleased that your arrival should have closed the subject."

"I never meant to play eavesdropper, Lady Augusta," said he, earnestly; "but as I came up the grass alley I heard my own name mentioned twice. Am I indiscreet in asking to what circumstance I owe the honor of engaging your attention?"

"I don't exactly know how to tell you," said she, blushing. "Not, indeed, but that the subject was one on which your own sentiments would be far more interesting than our speculations; but in repeating what passed between us, I might, perhaps, give an undue weight to opinions which merely came out in the course of conversation. In fact, Mr. Dunn,"

said she, hastily, "my father and I differ as to what should constitute the aristocracy of this kingdom, and from what sources it should be enlisted."

"And was used as an illustration?" said Dunn, bowing low, but without the slightest trace of irritation.