Then he got up and paced the floor for a few minutes. Already the evil seed that Gustus had sown so artfully was beginning to swell. 'Confound it all!' said Blake, half-aloud, as he tossed away half a cigar and proceeded to light another, 'that boy can't have much of the real blood of the old Blakes in him. 'Pon my soul, I'd rather he was a trifle wicked than a downright fool. Let me see--he hopes the old dad (that's me) won't take on about this when I (that's Frank) tell him. And it's just "dad," doesn't even honour me with a capital D. No, Frank Antony, the old dad is not going to lose his hair over this. Ah, well, he's only a boy!' He smoked for a while, then got up to write, for he was a busy man. Presently he took the letter and went to his daughter's room and placed it on the table, meaning to tell Aggie all about it when she returned. But Polly her maid was before him. 'Oh, miss, w'at do you think?' Aggie was dressing for dinner. 'Think about what, Polly?' 'Oh, miss, Mr Gustie gave me a kiss.' 'Well?' 'Yes, and a 'alf-crown.' 'Where, and when, and what for?' 'In your budd-oyre, miss, soon's you were gone, not to tell he stole your letter from dear Master Antony.' 'But I found the letter on the table where I left it.' 'Yes, miss, cause master hisself put it there.' 'Did my cousin, Mr Robb, give it to father?' 'That he did. I see'd him with these beautiful eyes, as Mr Gustie called 'em. And I 'eard all 'e said, and master too.' 'Ah! Polly, never mind; but I'm afraid you have neither earned your kiss nor your half-crown. There's a dress of mine, Polly, you can have for the servants' ball next month. It only wants altering.' 'Oh, thanks; and I won't ever let Mr Gustie kiss me or 'alf-crown me never no more. Yours until death do us part, Polly Smiggins.' Then Aggie Blake went down to dinner. 'Oh, by the way, Aggie,' said Mr Blake, 'did you find your letter? You had dropped it on the hall-floor, and then it was picked up, and I placed it on your desk.' 'Thank you very much, papa. It was only from Antony. He is enjoying himself very much, and is going to travel soon. Shall I give it to you?' 'Oh, you needn't, Aggie. Fact is, seeing it was in Frank's handwriting, I'm afraid I was rude enough to read it.' 'Was it the butler who found it, daddy?' 'Ye--ye--es,' Gustus Robb interjected. 'The fellow picked it up just as I was entering the library, and I handed it to you, Mr Blake.' The only reply Aggie made was, 'Um--m--m!' And that might have meant anything. CHAPTER XI. BLOWN OUT TO SEA. Up in the north the weather continued clear and calm and beautiful; woods and forests, now bedded with fallen leaves, a carpet on which those feeble folk the coneys played and gambolled all day long, but ready, aye ready, to dart into their burrows should their 'cute, alert ears detect the sound of a footfall or snapping of a twiglet in the distance.