"Good-morning," said Geoffrey, who was pleasantly impressed by the mother and daughter, who now led the way into a comfortable old-fashioned parlour, whose window looked direct upon the foam-fringed promontory on which stood the ruined mine. "A Mr Paul, whom I have just left, advised me to see you about your apartments."

"Oh! yes," said the elder lady, smoothing herself down in front, as if trying to free herself from a little exuberance--the younger lady having now got rid of brush, book, and ap.r.o.n, and given a furtive touch to her pretty hair. "You are Mr Lee, our new clergyman," she continued volubly, "and--"

"Indeed I am not!" said Geoffrey, laughing, and glancing at the younger lady, who blushed, and gave her head a conscious toss.

"But I sent word to the hotel that I should be glad to take him in,"

said the elder lady; "and now that's just the way with that Aunt Borlase. Madge, dear, they never got the message."

"Is this one of the rooms?" said Geoffrey, to stem the flood of eloquence.

"Yes, sir; and Mr Paul, who is my late husband's half-brother, has the other front parlour, which we sometimes share with him when he is in a good temper. When he isn't, my daughter and I--this is my daughter, sir--sit in the--"

"Oh, mamma, hush!" exclaimed the younger lady, acknowledging Geoffrey's bow.

"Well, my dear, it's the simple truth," said mamma. "I hope you don't object to the smell of black silk being ironed, sir?"

"Oh, dear, no," said Geoffrey, smiling.

"It's the being sponged over with beer first," continued the little woman. "It makes it so stiff, and when it's done it looks almost as good as new."

"But, mamma," remonstrated the younger lady.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. Quite superior people turn their black silks, and have them re-made over and over again. There really is no cheaper wear than a good black silk."

"But about the apartments," said Geoffrey, to the younger lady's great relief.

"Oh! yes; of course. To be sure," continued the little lady. "I let the bedchambers over the rooms, sir. One to each."

"Exactly," said Geoffrey, who was much amused at the simplicity of the elder lady, and the a.s.sumption of gentility on the part of the younger; "but do I understand you to say that the apartments are engaged?"

"Well, sir, I feel as if I ought to wait and see if Mr Lee, our new clergyman, wants the rooms, especially as there are no other apartments fit for a gentleman to be had in Carnac, and where he could get proper attention. Not that I make a profession of letting lodgings, sir. Oh, dear, no! Mr Paul is a relative, and he occupies--"

"Mamma, dear," said the younger lady, "I don't think this gentleman will care to hear that."

"But how can he understand my position, Margaret, if I do not explain it?" remonstrated the elder.

"You hold out very pleasant prospects," interposed Geoffrey, hastily.

"No other apartments to be had. But suppose Mr Lee does not take them?"

"Who the deuce is Mr Lee?" said a sharp voice at the open window.

"Come: what is it--terms? Haven't you settled yet?"

"Mr Lee is the new clergyman, brother Thomas," said the plump little lady, giving herself another smooth down, "and if he wants the rooms that Mr Owen had, dear, why of course--"

"He'll have to want them," said the old gentleman, sharply, as he sent a puff of smoke into the room. "I won't have another parson in the house while I stay. If you mean to have him here, I go."

"Oh, pray don't talk like that, brother Thomas!" cried Mrs Mullion, hastily, her aspect showing plainly enough that she was greatly in awe of the old man. "Of course you know, dear, that I will do precisely as you wish."

"What I wish? Do what I wish?" snapped out the old gentleman. "Do what you like. But you told me distinctly that you were very eager to let these two rooms, and I take the trouble to put myself out, and go out of my way when I had a pressing engagement with Dr Rumsey, to bring up a-- a--somebody who wants them. What more would you have? You, Madge," he added fiercely, "don't make eyes at strangers like that: it's rude."

"Oh, uncle?" cried the girl, indignantly, and her face was scarlet.

"So you were. Give me that letter off the chimney-piece."

The girl obeyed, fetching a large blue missive ready directed for the post, and stood holding it while the old gentleman, smoking away the while, took some stamps from his pocket-book, and tore one off.

"Now then," he continued, sharply, and to Geoffrey Trethick's great astonishment, "put out your tongue."

"I'm--I'm quite well, uncle," stammered the girl.

"Put out your tongue, miss!" cried the old fellow, sharply. "I don't care how you are: I want to wet this stamp."

"Oh, uncle!" cried the girl, in confusion, and she rushed out of the room, leaving the old man chuckling with satisfaction.

"Ah, well; I must lick it myself," he said. "I hate licking stamps.

Here, Jane, you put it on," he continued, handing letter and stamp to the little woman, who proceeded to obey his command. "Well, now then, are you going to let the rooms, or are you not? This gentleman can't stop shilly-shallying all day."

"I shall be very happy to let them, I'm sure," stammered the poor woman; and, after the settlement of a few preliminaries, it was arranged that the new-comer's luggage should be fetched from the hotel, and he took possession at once, after the old gentleman had suggested that a month in advance should be paid for, which was done.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

UNCLE PAUL UTTERS WARNINGS.

"You see, you are quite a stranger," said the old gentleman, in a kind of gruff apology; "and I'm obliged to look after that poor woman's interests. Now, then," he continued, leading the way into the garden, "light up and come into the look-out, boy; I want to talk to you."

Geoffrey followed him, and as soon as they were seated they smoked and stared at each other in silence for a time, the young man rather enjoying his elder's keen scrutiny.

"Pleasant woman, my sister-in-law," said Mr Paul, at last.

"Yes; she seems homely and nice. Takes pride in her house."

"Humph! Yes."

"Widow, of course?"

"Yes: didn't you see she was?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you ask?"

"For confirmation. Is yours a bad cigar?"

"No. Why?"

"Because it don't seem to act as a sedative. A good one always makes me calm and agreeable."