Ballindine had now made up his mind to remain a while, till
circumstances should decide what further steps he should take with
regard to Fanny Wyndham. There were a few hunting days left in the
season, which he intended to enjoy; and then he must manage to make
shift to lull the time with shooting, fishing, farming, and nursing his
horses and dogs.

His mother and sisters had heard nothing of the rumour of the quarrel
between Frank and Fanny, which Mat Tierney had so openly alluded to at
Handicap Lodge; and he was rather put out by their eager questions on
the subject. Nothing was said about it till the servant withdrew, after
dinner, but the three ladies were too anxious for information to delay
their curiosity any longer.

"Well, Frank," said the elder sister, who was sitting over the
fire, close to his left elbow--(he had a bottle of claret at his
right)--"well, Frank, do tell us something about Fanny Wyndham; we are
so longing to hear; and you never will write, you know."

"Everybody says it's a brilliant match," said the mother. "They say
here she's forty thousand pounds: I'm sure I hope she has, Frank."

"But when is it to be?" said Sophy. "She's of age now, isn't she? and
I thought you were only waiting for that. I'm sure we shall like her;
come, Frank, do tell us--when are we to see Lady Ballindine?"

Frank looked rather serious and embarrassed, but did not immediately
make any reply.

"You haven't quarrelled, have you, Frank?" said the mother.