"Not to-day. Mrs Denton here wants to see me."

"Yes, if you please, Miss Gertrude," said the old woman, who had tapped at the door and entered.

"Well, I'll go and get on my things, and if you have done when I've dressed, I'll wait for you. You ought to have your walk."

"Yes, Denton?" said Gertrude, as soon as they were alone.

"I've come to ask you, my dear, if I may speak out."

"Of course."

"Then I will, for I've had charge of you ever since you were such a little dot. Miss Gertrude, my dear, it won't do."

"Denton?"

"I'm seeing too much, my dear, and if poor master was alive he'd say what I say, 'It won't do.'"

"What do you mean?" cried Gertrude, with her heart beating wildly.

"Master George is no husband for you, my dear, no more than Mr Saul is.

Drink, and smoke, and cards, and bets. No, no, no, my dear, darling child; never mind the money, and the purple, and the fine linen. You've got your hundred a year, and I've got my annuity, as shall be yours, so let's go and take a cottage and live together; for if I stay here much longer, and see what's going on, it will break my heart."

And in proof of her earnestness the old lady sank upon her knees and covered her face with her ap.r.o.n, sobbing violently in spite of comforting words, till there was the rustle of silk upon the stairs, when she rose from her knees, kissed Gertrude quickly, and hurried out of the room.

Gertrude did not go for a walk, but sat alone thinking about her future life, and the clouds grew darker and seemed to close her in.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

ATTACHED FRIENDS.

"Odd, isn't it, George, old boy?"

"More than odd, Saul, old man."

"When I first saw you I said to myself, 'This fellow's an impostor,' and I felt savage--there, I can give it no better word."

"And when I clapped eyes on you, I said to myself, 'This chap will do anything he can to rob me of my rights, and is as jealous as a Turk because that little girl smiled at me.'"

"And I haven't done all I could to keep you out of your rights?"

"Not you, Saul."

"I've done all I could to help you get them, haven't I?"

"That you have, old man."

"And as to being jealous about you and Gertie, why, the thing's absurd."

"Of course it is. Take some more whiskey. Plenty more where that came from."

"Glad to hear it," said Saul, taking up bottle and gla.s.s, as they sat together in the handsomely furnished old study at The Mynns. "Jealous?

Ridiculous, when the old man had settled beforehand that you were to marry her. I say, old chap," continued Saul, resting the neck of the bottle on the rim of the gla.s.s, and looking across the table with a leer, "how are you getting on with her?"

"What's that to you? Take some whiskey and another cigar," said the other roughly.

"Oh, beg pardon. Didn't know I was touching on dangerous ground," said Saul. "I'm mum."

They had both been drinking far more than they could bear sensibly, for Saul had dined there that night, and the wine had been pretty abundant both during and after the dinner. Then they had adjourned to the study to smoke, have coffee and brandy, and then the whiskey had become the order of the night.

"Well," said the host, "why don't you help yourself and pa.s.s the bottle?"

"Because it's empty," said Saul, pushing the bottle from him.

"Oh, we'll soon cure that," said the young man, rising and going to a cabinet, out of one of whose drawers he took a couple of large keys.

"Been down in the cellar, I suppose?"

"I? Never," said Saul.

"Then you shall come now. It will surprise you."

"Oh, no, it will not," said Saul, rising. "Nothing here surprises me.

You're a lucky dog, George; but there, I don't envy you, old fellow, for you deserve to have it. You're so generous and true."

"That's right, old chap," cried Saul's host, clapping him on the shoulder. "I want to be generous; what's the use of having plenty and keeping it all locked up?"

There was a tap at the door.

"Come in."

The old housekeeper entered timidly.

"I only came to see if you wanted anything, sir, before I go to bed."

"Eh? Why, what time is it?" said her master, pulling out his magnificent gold watch by its nugget chain. "Half-past ten. All right; go to bed, Denton, old girl. I don't want anything else. I'll lock the door when Mr Saul goes. Yes, I do; I want a candle."

"Candle? Yes, sir."

The old woman hurried out, and returned directly with a lighted chamber candle, which she set down, looked uneasily from one to the other, and left the room, shaking her head as she crossed the hall.

"I say, George, what a watch!" cried Saul. "You are going it."

"Going it be hanged! That's the watch I had made in New York and sent over for a present to the old man, and he never used it, but saved it up for me. I only got it the other day, after all the confounded legal business was at an end. I seemed to be kept out of my rights till all that was done. Now come and let's get the whiskey."

He led the way out into the hall, and through a swing door to the top of a flight of steps, at the bottom of which, in a recess, was an ordinary door of dark oak.

This he unlocked, and threw back to admit the pair to a square entry, beyond which was another door, of iron, painted stone colour, and this rattled and creaked as it was unlocked and pushed back against the wall.