Mr Courtney was quite as proud as his wife of the grand marriage his daughter was about to make. He was inordinately fond of Maraquita, and would have considered her a fit match for a prince of the blood royal. At the same time, he was only a planter, and it was a great thing to know that his child was going to marry the highest man in the island. He had plenty of money to bestow on her--Sir Russell Johnstone had opened his eyes when his future father-in-law had mentioned the dowry he would receive with his bride--and when Maraquita had obtained rank and position, his best wishes for her would be gratified. He was sitting in the room which he called his office, and had just dismissed Monsieur de Courcelles, when his wife entered the apartment. Mr Courtney had had occasion to find fault with the overseer that morning. He had not attended to several important matters during the week, and seemed sluggish and indifferent to his master’s orders. Mr Courtney suspected that he had been drinking also, and accused him of the fact, and De Courcelles’ answers had been too sullen to please him. He was brooding over the change in the young man’s behaviour, when Mrs Courtney came panting into the room. It was not often she honoured her husband with her presence during business hours, and he saw at once that she had some communication of importance to make to him. ‘Well, my dear, what is it? Quita not worse this morning, I hope?’ ‘Oh, no, Mr Courtney! The dear child grows stronger every hour, under the knowledge of her delightful prospects, and I am most anxious that nothing should occur to mar her recovery, for dear Sir Russell is naturally anxious to have the wedding as soon as possible.’ ‘Of course; but that is for you and Quita to decide. You know that I shall spare no money to expedite matters. The sooner the dear girl is Lady Johnstone, the better.’ ‘So _I_ say, Mr Courtney,’ replied his wife, looking anxiously round. ‘But are you likely to be undisturbed for a few minutes? Have you dismissed Monsieur de Courcelles for the day?’ ‘Yes, and not in the best of humours. He is getting lazy, Nita, and I am not sure that he is keeping as sober as he should be. He gave me something very like insolence this morning. Do you know if anything is wrong with him? Is his engagement with Lizzie Fellows still going on?’ ‘Oh, Mr Courtney, this is the very subject on which I wished to see you. De Courcelles has been behaving very badly, in my estimation. You will hardly believe, even when I tell you so, that he has had the presumption to lift his eyes to our Maraquita, and to swear he will be revenged if she marries any other man.’