At first he laughed at the idea. The sober, steady, almost grave man, who had such large experience of life, and who yet had managed to steer clear, so far as Paul knew, of anything like a flirtation. Flirtation, indeed, would be the last thing to which his friend would stoop, "when old George is caught." Something, perhaps, also--"for pride attends us still"--was due to the fact that Annette always showed the greatest desire for his company, and undisguised delight at his attention and admiration. Never in the course of her previous life had the girl met with anyone who seemed so completely to comprehend her, whose talk she could so readily understand, whose manner was so completely fascinating, and yet somehow always commanded her respect. She despised her uncle, she disliked her aunt, and hated Mrs. Stothard though she feared her; but in the slow and painful workings of that brain she felt that if at those--those dreadful times when semi-blankness fell upon her, and her perception of all that was going on was dim, and obscure, and confused--if at such a time George Wainwright were to order her to do anything in opposition to the promptings of that devil, which on those occasions possessed her, she felt she should be powerless to disobey him. "I can't make it out, George; upon my soul, I can't," said Paul, as they were walking along the edge of the cliffs one morning smoking their pipes after breakfast. "What is it that puzzles your great brain, and that prompts to such strong utterances?" asked George, laughing. "You know perfectly well what I mean. You needn't try to be deceitful in your old age," said Paul; "for deceit is a thing which I don't think you would easily learn, and at all events does not go well with hair which is turning white at the temples, and a beard which is beginning to grizzle, Mr. Wainwright. You know perfectly well that I am alluding to the attentions which you are paying to my cousin, Miss Derinzy. And I should be glad to know, sir," continued Paul, vainly endeavouring to suppress the broad grin which was spreading over his face, "I should be glad to know, sir, how you reconcile your conduct with your notions of honour, knowing, as you perfectly well do, that that lady is my affianced bride." "Don't be an ass, Paul," said George, smiling in his turn. "I dispute both your assertions, especially the last. The lady is nothing of the kind." "No, poor dear child, that she certainly isn't. And I think on the whole that it is a very good thing that my affections are engaged in another quarter; for I am perfectly sure that, however much I might have wished it, Annette would never have had anything to say to me. I endeavoured to make my mother understand that, when she first talked to me on the subject when you first came down here; but she seemed to look upon Annette's wishes as having very little to do with the matter."