As Sylvia spoke her composure gave way; her tense feelings were relieved by a flood of tears. She pressed her face against her father's hand and sobbed unrestrainedly.

"You do not mean to say you are really fond of me?" he said; and a queer moisture came into his own eyes. He said nothing more about the coals, and Sylvia insisted on his having more food, and, in short, having a really good time.

"Dare I leave him to-morrow?" she said to herself. "He may be very weak after this; and yet-and yet I cannot give up my great, great fun. My lovely dress, too, ready and all! Oh! I must go. I am sure he will be all right in the morning."

Presently, much to Sylvia's relief, Mr. Leeson suggested that he should sleep on the sofa, in the neighborhood of the big fire.

"For you have been so reckless, my dear little girl," he said, "that really you have provided a fire to last for hours and hours. It would be a sad pity to waste it; I think, therefore, that I shall spend the night on this sofa, well wrapped up, enjoying the heat."

"Nothing could be better, father," said Sylvia, "except a big, very big, fire in your own room, and you in your own bed well warmed with hot bottles."

"We should soon be in the workhouse," was Mr. Leeson's rejoinder. "No, no; I will enjoy the fire here now that you have been so extravagant; and you had better go to bed if you have had your supper."

Sylvia had had no supper, but Mr. Leeson was far too self-absorbed to notice that fact. Presently she left him, and he lay on the sofa, blinking into the fire, and occasionally half-dozing. After a time he dropped off to sleep, and the young girl, who stole in to look at him, went out with a satisfied expression on her face.

"He is quite well again," she said to Jasper, "and he is sleeping sweetly.

"Now, look here," said Jasper. "What is fretting you?"

"I don't think I ought to leave him to-morrow."

"But I shall be here. I will manage to let him have his meals comfortable without his knowing it. Do you suppose I have not done more difficult things than that in my day? Now, my love, you go to bed and sleep sound, and I will have a plan all mature to give you your happy day with an undisturbed conscience in the morning."

Sylvia was really very tired-dead tired. She went up-stairs, and as soon as she laid her head on her pillow was sound asleep.

Meanwhile Mr. Leeson slept on for two or three hours; it was past the middle of the night when he awoke. He woke wide awake, as elderly people will, and looked round him. The fire had burnt itself down to a great red ma.s.s; the room looked cheery and comfortable in the warm rays. Mr.

Leeson stirred himself luxuriously and wrapped the blanket, which Jasper had brought from her own stores, tightly round his person. After a time, however, its very softness and fluffiness and warmth attracted his attention. He began to feel it between his fingers and thumb; then he roused himself, sat up, and looked at it. A suspicious look came into his eyes.

"What is the matter?" he said to himself. "Is Sylvia spending money that I know nothing about? Why, this is a new blanket! I have an inventory of every single thing that this house possesses. Surely new blankets are not included in that inventory! I can soon see."

He rose, lit a pair of candles, went to a secretary which stood against the wall, opened it, and took out a book marked "Exact Inventory of all the Furniture at The Priory." He turned up the portion devoted to house linen, and read the description of the different blankets which the meager establishment contained. There was certainly a lack of these valuable necessaries; the blankets at The Priory had seen much service, and were worn thin with use and washing. But this blanket was new-oh, delicious, of course-but what was the man worth who needed such luxuries! Mr. Leeson pushed it aside with a disturbed look on his face.

"Sylvia must be spending money," he said to himself. "I have observed it of late. She looks better, and she decidedly gives me extravagant meals.

The bread is not as stale as it might be, and there is too much meat used. This soup--"

He took up the empty cup from which he had drained the soup a few hours back, and looked at a drop or two which still remained at the bottom.

"Positively it jellies," he said to himself-"jellies! Then, too, in my rambles round this evening I noticed that smoke again-that smoke coming from the kitchen. There is too much fuel used here, and these blankets are disgraceful, and the food is reckless-there is no other word for it."

He sank back on his sofa and gazed at the fire.

"Ah!" he said as he looked full at the flames, "out you go presently; and for some time the warmth will remain in the room, and I shall not dream of lighting any other fire here until that warmth is gone. Sylvia takes after her mother. There was never a better woman than my dear wife, but she was madly, disgracefully extravagant. What shall I do if this goes on?-and pretty girls like Sylvia are apt to be so thoughtless.

I wish I could send her away for a bit; it will be quite terrible if she develops her mother's tastes. I could not be cruel to my pretty little girl, but she certainly will be a fearful thorn in my side if she buys blankets of this sort, and feeds me with soup that jellies, forsooth!

What am I to do? I have not saved quite so much as I ought during the last week. Ah! the house is silent as the grave. I shall just count out the money I have put into that last canvas bag."

A stealthy, queer light came into Mr. Leeson's eyes. He crossed the room on tiptoe and turned the key in the lock. As he did so he seemed to be a.s.sailed by a memory.

"Was I alone with Sylvia when I awoke out of unconsciousness," he said to himself, "or was there some one else by? I cannot quite make out. Was it a dream that I saw an ugly, large woman bending over me? People do dream things of that sort when they sink from exhaustion. I have read of it in stories of misers. Misers! I am nothing of that kind; I am just a prudent man who will not spend too much-a prudent man who tries to save.

It must have been a dream that a stranger was in the house; my little girl might take after her mother, but she is not so bad as that. Yes, I will take the opportunity; I will count what is in the canvas bag. I was too weak to-night to attempt the work of burying my treasure, but to-morrow night I must be stronger. I believe I ate too much, and that is what ails me-in fact, I am certain of it. The cold took me and brought on an acute attack of indigestion, and I stumbled and fell. Poor dear little Sylvia! But I won't leave her penniless; that is one comfort."

Putting out one candle carefully, Mr. Leeson now laid the other on a table. He then went to his secretary and opened it. He pushed in his hand far, and brought out from its innermost depths a small bag made of rough canvas. The bag was tied with coa.r.s.e string. He glanced round him, a strange expression on his face, and loosening the string of the bag, poured its contents upon the table. He poured them out slowly, and as he did so a look of distinct delight visited his face. There lay on the table in front of him a pile of money-gold, silver, copper. He spent some time dividing the three species of coin into different heaps. The gold coins were put in piles one on top of the other at his right hand, the silver lying in still larger heaps in the middle; the coppers, up to farthings, lay on his left hand. He bent his head and touched the gold with his lips.

"Beautiful! blessed! lovely!" he muttered. "I have saved all this out of the money which my dear wife would have spent on food and dress and luxuries. The solid, tangible, precious thing is here, and there is more like it-much more like it-many bags larger than these, full, full to the brim, all buried down deep in the fowl-house. No one would guess where I bank my spoils. They are as safe as can be. I dare not keep much treasure in the house, but no one will know where it really lies."

He counted his gold carefully; he also counted his silver; finally he counted his copper. He wrote down the different sums on a piece of paper, which he slipped into the canvas bag; he put back the coins, tied the bag with the string, and returned it to its hiding-place.

"To-morrow night I must bury it," he said to himself. "I had hoped that I would have saved a little more, but by dint of great additional economy I may succeed next month. Well, I must begin to be very careful, and I must speak plainly on the subject to Sylvia."

CHAPTER XVIII.-A RED GIPSY CLOAK.

Mr. Leeson looked quite well the next morning, and Sylvia ate her scanty breakfast with a happy heart; she no longer felt any qualms at leaving her father for the day. Jasper a.s.sured Sylvia over and over again that all would be well; that without in the least betraying the secret of her residence in the house, she would see to Mr. Leeson's comforts. The difficulty now was for Sylvia to dress in her smart clothes and slip away without her father seeing her. She did not want to get to Castle Wynford much before one o'clock, but she would leave The Priory long before that hour and wander about in her usual fashion. No outdoor exercise tired this energetic girl. She looked forward to a whole long day of unalloyed bliss, to the society of other girls, to congenial warmth and comfort and luxury. She even looked forward with a pleasure, that her father would put down to distinct greediness, to nice, temptingly served meals. Oh yes, she meant to enjoy everything. She meant to drink this cup of bliss to the bottom, not to leave one drop untasted. Jasper seemed to share her pleasure. Jasper burdened her with many messages to Evelyn; she got Sylvia to promise that she would contrive a meeting between Evelyn and her old maid on the following day.

Jasper selected the rendezvous, and told Sylvia exactly what she was to say to Evelyn.

"Whatever happens, I must see her," said the woman. "Tell her there are many reasons; and tell her too that I am hungry for a sight of her-hungry, hungry."

"Because you love her so much," said Sylvia, a soft light in her eyes.

"Yes, my darling, that is it-I love her."

"And she must love you very much," said Sylvia.

Jasper uttered a quick sigh.

"It is not Evelyn's way to love to extremities," she said slowly. "You must not blame her, my dear; we are all made according to the will of the Almighty; and Evelyn-oh yes, she is as the apple of the eye to me, but I am nothing of that sort to her. You see, dear, her head is a bit turned with the lofty future that lies before her. In some ways it does not suit her; it would suit you, Miss Sylvia, or it would suit Miss Audrey, but it does not suit little Eve. It is too much for my little Eve; she would do better in a less exalted sphere."

"Well, I do hope and trust she will be glad to see you and glad to hear about you," said Sylvia. "I will be sure to tell her what a dear old thing you are. But, oh, Jasper, do you think she will notice the smart dress made out of her dress?"

"You can give her this note, dear; I am sending her a word of warning not to draw attention to your dress. And now, don't you think you had better get into it, and let me see you out by the back premises?"

"I must go and see father just for a minute first," said Sylvia.

She ran off, saw her father, as usual busily writing letters, and bent down to kiss him.

"Don't disturb me," he said in a querulous tone. "I am particularly busy. The post this morning has brought me some gratifying news. A little investment I made a short time ago in great fear and trembling has turned up trumps. I mean to put a trifle more money-oh, my dear! I only possess a trifle-into the same admirable undertaking (gold-mines, my dear), and if all that the prospectus says is true I shall be in very truth a rich man. Not yet, Sylvia-don't you think it-but some day."

"Oh father! and if you are--"

"Why, you may spend a little more then, dear-a little more; but it is wrong to squander gold. Gold is a beautiful and precious thing, my dear; very beautiful, very precious, very hard to get."

"Yes, father; and I hope you will have a great deal of it, and I hope you will put plenty-plenty of money into the-into the--"

"Investment," said Mr. Leeson. "The investment that sounds so promising.

Don't keep me now, love."