"No, thank you, ma'am. Sit too much as it is. Don't get enough exercise."

"You shall go up and see John, as soon as he wakes."

"No, thankye. What's the use? I couldn't do him any good. One's getting old now. No time to spare. Pity to waste what's left."

"Well, I'm sure," said Mrs Van Heldre bridling. "Of all men to talk like that, you ought to be the last. I'll go up and see whether he is awake."

"Poor little woman," said Uncle Luke, as she left the room. "Always puts me in mind, George, of a pink and white bantam hen."

"As good a little woman as ever breathed, Luke."

"Yes, of course; but it's comic to see her ruffle up her feathers and go off in a huff. How's Lou?"

"Not very well, Luke. Poor girl, she frets. I shall have to take her away."

"Rubbish! She'll be all right directly. Women have no brains."

George Vine looked up at him with an air of mild reproof.

"All tears and doldrums one day; high jinks and coquetry the next.

Marry, and forget all about you in a week."

"Luke, my dear brother, you do not mean this."

"Don't soap, George. I hate to be called my dear brother. Now, do I look like a dear brother?"

"I shall never forget your goodness to us over our terrible trouble."

"Will you be quiet? Hang it all, George! don't be such an idiot. Let the past be. The poor foolish boy is dead; let him rest. Don't be for ever digging up the old sorrow, to brood over it and try to hatch fresh.

The eggs may not be addled, and you might be successful. Plenty of trouble without making more."

"I do not wish to make more, Luke; but you hurt me when you speak so lightly of Louise."

"A jade! I hate her."

"No, you do not."

"Yes, I do. Here's Duncan Leslie, as good a fellow as ever stepped, who has stuck to her through thick and thin, in spite of my lady's powder, and fan, and her insults."

"Marguerite has been very sharp and spiteful to Mr Leslie," said George Vine sadly.

"She's mad. Well, he wants to marry the girl, and she has pitched him over."

"Has Louise refused him?"

"He doesn't say so; but I saw him, and that's enough. Of course I know that at present--et cetera, et cetera; but the girl wants a husband; all girls do. There was one for her, and she is playing _stand off_ with him. Just like woman. He! he! he! he!" He uttered a sneering laugh.

"Going to marry Madge's French count, I suppose--Monsieur le Comte de Mythville. There, I can't help it, George, old lad; it makes me wild.

Shake hands, old chap. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings; but between ourselves, though I've never shown it to a soul, I was rather hit upon the idea of Leslie marrying Louise."

"I had thought it possible," said George Vine, with a sigh.

"Her fault. Hang it all, George, be a man, and bestir yourself."

"I am trying, brother Luke."

"That's right, lad; and for goodness' sake put down your foot and keep Margaret in her place. Louy is soft now with trouble, and that wicked old woman will try to work her and mould her into what shape she pleases. You've had enough of Margaret."

"I have tried to do my duty by our sister."

"You've done more, my lad. Now take care that she leaves Louy alone.

You don't want another old maid of her pattern in the family."

"John is awake now, George Vine," said Mrs Van Heldre, re-entering the room.

"Will you go up?"

"Yes, I'll go up," said George Vine quietly.

"Well, aren't I to be asked to see him?" grumbled Uncle Luke.

"Oh, what a strange man you are!" said Mrs Van Heldre; "you know I wanted you to go up."

"No, I don't; I know you asked me to go up. Different thing altogether."

"I did want you to go. I felt that it would cheer up poor John."

"Well, don't be cross about it, woman. Ask me again."

Mrs Van Heldre turned with a smile to George Vine, as much as to say, "Did you ever hear such an unreasonable being?"

"Rum one, aren't I, John's wife, eh?" said Uncle Luke grimly. "Good little woman, after all."

"After all!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs Van Heldre, as she followed them into the room, and then stepped back. "Too many of us at once can't be good, so I must stay down," she added with a sigh.

Crossing to the table where her bird's cage was standing, she completely removed the cover, now displaying a pink and grey ball of feathers upon the perch, her action having been so gentle that the bird's rest was not disturbed.

"Poor little prisoner!" she said gently. "There, you may wake up to-morrow morning and pipe and sing in the bright sunshine, for we can bear it now--thank G.o.d! we can bear it now."

CHAPTER FIFTY.

THE DISCOVERY.

Madelaine rose as the brothers entered the room, and before coming to the bed, where Van Heldre lay rapidly mending now, George Vine took the girl's hands, looked down in her pale face, which sorrow seemed to have refined, and bent down and kissed her.

"How are you, Maddy?" said Luke Vine, gruffly; and he was going on to the bed, but Madelaine laid her hand upon his shoulder, leant towards him, and kissed him.

"Hah! yes, forgot," he said, brushing her forehead roughly with his grey beard; and then, yielding to a sudden impulse, kissing the girl tenderly, "How I do hate girls!" he muttered to himself, as he went straight to the window and stood there for a few moments.