Don't think me a vain c.o.xcomb for what I am about to say."

"I make no promises: say it."

"I think she likes me very much."

"Why?"

"She comes into the room sometimes, looking a careworn woman of sixty; and when she has been sitting here for a few minutes, there's a pleasant smile on her face, as if she were growing younger; her eyes light up, and she seems quite at rest and happy."

"Poor thing!" said Mrs Otway sadly. "But, there, I can't listen to any more. I am on your mother's side."

"And you are beaten, so you may give up. It's fate. My mother must put up with it. So long as I am happy she will not care. And, besides, who could help loving Julie? Hush!"

There was a tap at the door, and Julia entered.

"Not I, for one," said Mrs Otway aside, as she rose and held out her hands, kissing the young girl warmly. "Why, my dear, you look quite pale. This poor bruised boy has been worrying you and your mother to death."

"Indeed, no," cried Julia eagerly. "Mr Eaton has been so patient all the time, and we were so glad to be able to be of service. Sir Gordon Bourne is in the other room with mamma. May he come in and see you?"

"I shall be very glad," said Eaton, looking at her fixedly; and Mrs Otway noted the blush and the downcast look that followed.

"Phil's right. He has won her."

"He proposes driving you home with him, and taking you out in his boat.

He thinks it will help your recovery."

"Oh no, I couldn't move yet," said Eaton quickly.

"I think it would do you good," said Mrs Otway. "What do you say, Miss Hallam?"

"We should be very sorry to see Mr Eaton go," said Julia quietly; "but I think you are right."

"Phil's wrong," said Mrs Otway to herself.

At this moment Sir Gordon entered the room with Mrs Hallam and proposed that Eaton should return with him, but only to find, to his annoyance, that the offer was declined.

"You will have to make the offer to my husband, Sir Gordon," said Mrs Otway merrily. "You will not find him so ungrateful." And then she turned to Eaton, leaving the old man free to continue a conversation begun with Mrs Hallam in another room.

"I do not seem to find much success in my offers," he said, in a low voice; "but let me repeat what I have said. Should necessity arise, remember that I am your very oldest friend, and that I am always waiting to help Millicent Hallam and her child."

"I shall not forget," said Mrs Hallam, smiling sadly.

"If I am away, there is Bayle ready to act for me, and you know you can command him."

"I have always been the debtor of my friends," replied Mrs Hallam; "but no such emergency is likely to arise. I have learnt the lesson of self-dependence lately, Sir Gordon."

"But if the emergency did occur?"

"Then we would see," replied Mrs Hallam.

"Well, Philip, my dear boy," cried Mrs Otway loudly, "in three days we shall have you back."

"Yes, in three days," he replied, glancing at Julia, who must have heard, but who went on with a conversation in which she was engaged with Sir Gordon, unmoved.

"Then good-bye," she cried, "Mrs Hallam, Miss Hallam, accept my thanks for your kindness to my boy here. Lady Eaton appointed me her deputy, but I'm tired of my sorry task. Good-bye. Are we to be companions back, Sir Gordon?"

"Yes--yes--yes," said the old gentleman, "I am coming. Remember," he said, in a low tone to Mrs Hallam.

"I never forget such kindness as yours, Sir Gordon," she replied.

"Good-bye, Julia, my child," he said, kissing her hands. "If ever you want help of any kind, come straight to me. Good-bye."

"If she would only make some appeal to me," he muttered. "But I can't interfere without. Poor things! Poor things!"

"_I_ beg your pardon, Sir Gordon," said Mrs Otway. "What are poor things?"

"Talking to myself, ma'am--talking to myself."

"You don't like Philip Eaton," she said quickly.

"Eh? Well, to be frank, ma'am, no: I don't."

"Because he likes your little _protegee_?"

"I'm sorry to say, madam, that she is not my _protegee_. Poor child!"

"Hadn't we better be frank, Sir Gordon? Suppose Philip Eaton wanted to marry her--what then?"

"Confound him! I should like to hand him over to the blacks!"

"What if she loved him?"

"If she loved him--if she loved him, Mrs Otway?" said the old man dreamily. "Why, then--dear me! This love's one of the greatest miseries of life. But, there, ma'am, I have no influence at all. You must _go_ to her father, not come to me."

VOLUME FOUR, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

IN THE TOILS.

"So he goes to-day, eh?" said Crellock.

"Yes; I've seen him, and he's going to-day."

"Lucky for him, for I've got into a state of mind that does not promise much good for any one who stands in my way," said Crellock, with an unpleasant look in his eyes. "And now, mind this: as soon as he is gone, and we are alone, the matter is to be pressed home. Here, I'll be off. I don't want to say good-bye." He picked up his whip and stepped out into the verandah, walking along past the dining-room window, which was open, and through it came the voice of Julia in measured cadence, reading aloud.

Crellock ground his teeth and half stopped; but he gave his whip a sharp crack and went on.

"A row would only frighten her, and I don't want to _do_ that. The coast will be clear this afternoon."

He went on round to the stable, saddled and mounted his horse, and turned off by the first track for the open country.