"I suppose old Garstang isn't a bad sort but we don't much like him here. I say, what do you think of Harry Dasent?" "I--I hardly know," said Kate, who was trying her best to get back along the path by some laurels to where the conservatory door by the drawing-room stood open. "I have seen so little of him." "So much the better for you. He's not a bad sort of a fellow for men to know, but he's an awful cad with girls. Not a bit of a gentleman. You won't see much more of him, though, for the guv'nor says he won't have him here. I say, a month ago it would have made me set up on bristles, because I want him for a mate, but I don't mind now you've come. We'll be regular pals, and go out together everywhere. I'll soon show you what country life is. Oh, well, if you will go in now I won't stop you. I'll go and have the little gun cleaned up, and--I say, come round the other way; I haven't shown you the dogs." "No, no--not now, please, Claud. I really am tired out and faint." He still kept her hand tightly under his arm, in spite of her effort to withdraw it, and followed her into the conservatory, which was large and well-filled with ornamental shrubs and palms. "Well, you do look a bit tired, dear, but it becomes you. I say, I am so glad you've come. What a pretty little hand this is. You'll give me a kiss before you go?" She started from him in horror. "Nobody can't see here. Just one," he whispered, as he passed his arm round her waist; and before she could struggle free he had roughly kissed her twice. "Um-m-m," exclaimed Mrs Wilton, in a soft simmering way. "Claud, Claud, my dear, shocking, shocking! Oh, fie, fie, fie! You shouldn't, you know. Anyone would think you were an engaged couple." "Aunt, dear!" cried Kate, in an agitated voice, as she clung to that lady, but no further words would come. "Oh, there, there, my dear, don't look like that," cried Mrs Wilton. "I'm not a bit cross. Why, you're all of a flutter. I wasn't blaming you, my dear, only that naughty Claud. It was very rude of him, indeed. Really, Claud, my dear, it is not gentlemanly of you. Poor Kate is quite alarmed." "Then you shouldn't have come peeping," cried the oaf, with a boisterous laugh. "Claud! for shame! I will not allow it. It is not respectful to your mamma. Now, come in, both of you. Mr Garstang is here--with your father, Claud, my love; and I wish you to be very nice and respectful to him, for who knows what may happen? Kate, my dear, I never think anything of money, but when one has rich relatives who have no children of their own, I always say that we oughtn't to go out of our way to annoy them. Henry Dasent certainly is my sister's child, but one can't help thinking more of one's own son; and as Harry is nothing to Mr Garstang, I can't see how he can help remembering Claud very strongly in his will."