"He approves of you entirely. Y' see, da Rocha, I've been giving you glowing testimonials. I've said that if I were the Grand Turk himself I would trust you with the latch-key of the harem. I don't doubt though," added Mr. Crowberry, chuckling and digging at Antonio's ribs, "that you've been a bit of a dog in your time. Eh? And none the worse for it either. Still, the point is you're as steady as an old horse, now. Besides, supposing you wanted to make love to Isabel, it would be all the same. You'd simply get a frost-bite." "I am entirely at the service of all your Excellencies," said Antonio, rather stiffly. "Thanks," Mr. Crowberry answered. "But don't be too much at the service of Mrs. Baxter. Between ourselves, she's a selfish, lazy, avaricious old humbug. She looks the picture of good temper; but don't be taken in. Mrs. Baxter boasts that she has stuck to the Kaye-Templemans through thick and thin; but she's buttered her own bread thick all the time. She is a rich woman--all out of Sir Percy. When the ship begins to sink, Mrs. Baxter'll be the first to rat." "Then how must I treat her?" Antonio asked. "Simply leave her alone. She'll spend her days in bed, like a dormouse--only, dormice don't wake up every four hours to ask if it isn't feeding-time. Even while Sir Percy has been in all this pain, Mrs. Baxter has had the servants running about after her the same as usual." "What about Jackson?" "Oh, he'll sleep all day too. He'll find a snug corner and smoke and dose till dinner-time. But he doesn't soak. And, if there's work to do, he'll do it. Jackson's all right. But come inside." On the threshold of the large room Isabel met them. Want of sleep had paled her cheeks and dulled her eyes; but an unwonted softness of expression made her more beautiful in the monk's view than ever before. He could not help feeling glad that she was remaining behind, and proud that she was to be in his charge. Isabel led Antonio straight to Sir Percy, who was sitting in a rocking-chair with his arm in a sling. The baronet was more changed than his daughter. He looked weak and old; but he was no longer distraught. After he had answered Antonio's inquiries gratefully, he said: "Senhor da Rocha, it is possible I have behaved towards you with curtness or even with downright uncouthness. If so, I ask your pardon most sincerely, and I beg you to set it all down to my preoccupation with a scheme which has failed. My daughter and I will never forget your kindness. Indeed, we are about to presume still further upon it. You know that I shall be absent a few days in Lisbon, and we are hoping that you will be so very good as to come now and then to this house."