"Greville dear, we must not have him with us long--with his sea manners and ways; his oaths, no doubt, will come in time, and the mode of treating the servant-maids too; for even they, and the ladies he may meet, are so different to all he is accustomed to." "Who sent him to sea?" asked her husband curtly, for her remarks were alike unjust and untrue; but though they had a circle of rather fashionable friends now, Derval was conscious that none were invited to meet him; and thus coldness on the part of those who should have made him welcome, requests often refused, and lectures from Mrs. Hampton, in a tone unsuited to a lad past eighteen years, provoked a certain spirit of resistance in Derval. So far were slights carried, that one day during his father's absence young Rookleigh was placed at the head of the table. To see a boy of eleven years of age there, made Derval laugh; but, as Selden says, "you may see by a straw which way the wind is," and the preference was only a part and parcel of her whole system. One morning, shortly before the time for his departure came, there occurred two events--or one, we should say, as each was but a part of the other--which gave Derval some food for reflection. Among the letters for post on the hall-table, he saw one in Mrs. Hampton's handwriting, addressed to "Reeve Rudderhead, Esq., Mate, Ship _Amethyst_, West India Dock, London." "Who the dickens is he?" thought Derval; "we have no such man, and it is improbable that there are two ships of the same name in the same dock." He inquired of Mrs. Hampton who this Rudderhead was. "He has succeeded Mr. Girtline in your ship." "As first mate?" "Yes." "Who told you of this?" "My aunt Rookleigh, by letter." "And about what are you writing to him?" asked Derval, so abruptly or suspiciously, that she coloured with annoyance and said: "That is _my_ business; besides, he is my cousin-german, and was an admirer of mine in my girlish days," she added, and left the room. Soon after Derval was in the library, penning a letter to Hal Bowline, and while doing so, the appearance of his own name on the blotting-pad, several times, in Mrs. Hampton's handwriting, attracted his attention, and very naturally excited his curiosity. The blotting-paper was new, yellow tinted, and clean otherwise, and anxious to know in what way she was interested in his affairs, he deemed himself quite entitled to examine into the matter; and he could make out, by the address which was thereto, that the fragments he could decipher were part of his step-mother's letter to her nautical cousin, Mr. Reeve Rudderhead, and though unconnected, they ran thus:-- "_... so Derval, you see, is ... y, and for the old love you bore me ... good round sum, rid ... him in any way ... lad and evil ... see him no more, again ...._"