"It is kindness though it gives you pain, my dear. Some men might repent and alter, but I have studied George Harrington from the day he came to the house, and I cannot find the stuff in him to make a better man."

"I should make him a better man, Mrs Hampton," said Gertrude proudly.

"You would worry yourself into your grave, Gertrude, and if you marry him, I shall order my mourning at once, for you do not, and never will love him."

"Now you are laughing at me," said Gertrude, brightening up, and taking the old lady's withered hands in her soft, plump little palms. "It is impossible to follow out your proposal, and I shall marry George Harrington for my dear uncle's sake."

"And be a wretched woman for life."

"No, Mrs Hampton; even at the worst, I shall have the happy consciousness of having done my duty; but there will be no worse. I shall win."

Mrs Hampton shook her head.

"Yes," repeated Gertrude; "I shall win, and bring him to the right way.

He cannot refuse to listen to me. Surely a weak trusting woman has power over even the strongest man."

"In novels, and poems, and plays, my dear, more than in real life, I am afraid," said Mrs Hampton, with a sigh of resignation; "but remember this, my dear, when in the future you recall all I have said--No, no, no, my darling; I can't stoop to talk to you like that. Gertie, my child, I am very sorry, but I am going to help you carry out your n.o.ble resolve with all my heart."

"Mrs Hampton?" cried Gertrude joyously.

"Yes, my dear; and if women can win, we'll make a hero of George Harrington--good Heavens! what's that?"

The two women started from the sofa, and gazed in a startled way toward the hall.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

BRUNO GETS INTO A Sc.r.a.pE.

The sound that startled them was a faint scratching noise at the door, and Gertrude hurried across the room to open and admit the dog Bruno, who was lying on the sheepskin mat, and who raised his head, gazed in his mistress's face, uttered a low whine, and then dropped his head between his paws.

"Why, Bruno, Bruno? what's the matter?"

"Shall I go up and knock at master's door again, Miss Gertie?" said the housekeeper, who came along the pa.s.sage just then. "Why, what's the matter with the dog?"

"I don't know, Denton; he seems ill. Oh! His head is covered with blood."

"Ugh! So it is," cried the old woman. "I haven't seen him before this morning, miss. He has been fighting. Go down, sir, directly. Bad dog!"

Bruno did not move, but lay blinking at his mistress, and whined uneasily.

"He has been fighting with some one who had a big stick then," said Mrs Hampton shortly. "Look the poor dog's head is all swollen up, and there's a great cut here."

"My poor old Bruno?" cried Gertrude, going on her knees beside the dog, and taking one of his paws, when the brute whined feebly, and made a faint effort to lick her hand.

"Yes, he has a bad cut upon his head," said Denton, as she closely examined the place; "and it has been bleeding terribly. Poor fellow!

I'll call cook to help carry him away, and we'll bathe it."

"No," said Gertrude decisively; "he was dear uncle's favourite, and he shall be treated as a friend. Let him stop here, Denton. Draw the mat into this corner, and put another thick mat beside it."

This was done, the mat slipping easily over the smooth floor, with its load; and after submitting patiently to the domestic surgery of his mistress and the old housekeeper, Bruno once more tried to lick the former's hand and closed his eyes in sleep.

"There," said Gertrude, with business-like cheerfulness, as the basin, sponge, and towels used were removed. "Now, Denton, I think you really ought to go and waken your master."

"Yes, miss," said the old lady, after giving Mrs Hampton an inquiring look, responded to by a shake of the head.

The old housekeeper seemed to catch that shake of the head, and she went upstairs while Gertrude led the way back to the dining-room, and looked carefully over the table to see that the maid had removed all that was untidy, and left the place attractive-looking for her master, when he should come down.

"Labour in vain, my dear," said Mrs Hampton, with a quaint smile.

"He'll want nothing but a cup of the strongest tea; and don't let him have any spirits in it if he asks."

"Miss Gertrude? Miss Gertrude?" came from the stairs; and upon their going to the door, it was to see the old housekeeper hurrying down.

"Master's not in his room, my dear."

"What?"

"I knocked till I grew nervous, thinking he might be in a fit, and then I turned the handle, and went in."

"And he is not there," cried Gertrude. "Now, Mrs Hampton," she added, as she turned triumphantly on her old friend, "now what have you to say for yourself. Yes! Look!" she cried, as she ran to the hat stand. "We might have known--hat and stick not here. I felt sure he must have gone for a long morning stroll."

"Well, I'm glad I am wrong," said Mrs Hampton sharply. "Then we have been fidgeting ourselves for nothing. Eh, Denton? Yes? What is it?"

She had suddenly caught sight of the old housekeeper making signs to her, and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her face in a most mysterious way!

"Yes, Denton, what is it? Why don't you speak?" cried Gertrude, as she caught sight of the old woman's action.

"I--I--nothing, my dear, only he is not there," said Denton hesitatingly.

"What are you keeping back?" said Gertrude firmly.

"N-othing, my dear."

"Denton!"

"Don't ask me, my dear, please," faltered the old woman.

"I desire you to speak," cried Gertrude imperatively.

"Then I will, my dear, for it's only another reason why you should not go and do what you are thinking about doing," cried the old woman angrily. "I don't care, you may send me away if you like, but I shall have done my duty by you, and I shan't have that on my mind."

"Have the goodness to remember what you are, Denton," said Gertrude, speaking coldly, and turning very pale.

"Yes, miss, only your poor old servant, but I can't see you going headlong to destruction without trying to stop you. I say you oughtn't to marry a gentleman who can't keep from the drink, and goes out spending the night after everybody else has gone to bed."

"What do you mean, Denton?"

"That we've been wherritting ourselves about him all the morning, and he's never been to bed all night."