Richard thought he understood. Sir George’s habits were pretty well-known. He betted on every race; cards and all forms of gambling had for him a fatal allurement. With such weaknesses, a rich man might often find himself temporarily poor. “You are a lucky young fellow, my dear Richard, to have been brought up under the careful guidance of such a wise mentor as Rupert Morrice. The man is sound to the core; no weaknesses, no failings. He has told me that he has never touched a card in his life, nor made a bet. And yet, withal, he is not a bit of a Puritan.” Richard was quite aware of the fact that he was a very lucky person; that, thanks perhaps mostly to that old love-affair, he had won the favour of the wealthy financier. But he was not over-pleased to have the fact rubbed into him so very persistently by this smooth-mannered man of the world, whose attitude towards himself, he fancied, always showed a trace of bland superiority. He wished that he could get away from the too close proximity of the uncle and nephew, and was meditating how best to accomplish his object, when Providence intervened in the shape of Rosabelle Sheldon, who fluttered up to them. She was a very charming person, this good-looking girl over whose fair head some twenty-two summers had passed. Her blue eyes looked at you with a full unwavering glance that told you there was no meanness or pettiness in her composition, that she was open and frank. She had a fine figure, a splendid complexion, an exquisite mouth, which, when she smiled, revealed perfect teeth. She was a merry-hearted girl, fond of dancing, fond of sport, loving an outdoor life, and of a most equable temper. But sunny as was her normal disposition, she was capable of grave moods when occasion called them forth, and could be very serious when she was deeply moved. “I am dying for an ice. Please take me and get me one, Dick, that is if I am not interrupting an important conversation,” she said, addressing the young man. Sir George regarded her with that benign smile of his which, when he bestowed it upon women, suggested a subtle flattery and appreciation of their charm. “You’ve been enjoying yourself very much, I can see, my dear Rosabelle, from the happy light on your expressive face. But I wager you will enjoy yourself more at Mürren, delightful as this evening has been, and is.” The girl laughed gaily. “Oh, Sir George, how well you understand me. I enjoy nearly everything, you know; I am made that way. But above all things, I am an out-of-door girl, and I prefer to take my pleasures in the open air when possible.” She went away on Richard’s arm, leaving uncle and nephew standing together side by side.