“No, my child, no; the house is his, not his grandmother’s. The position is unfit, improper, indelicate. I wonder you do not see that it is so!” “No, I do not see it. But if any one sees it, that is enough. I cannot stay, of course. I will go home with you, uncle.” “That is right, Gloria. That is right, my dearest girl. I thank you, love, for your ready acquiescence in my views and compliance with my wishes. As for this young Lindsay, who is such a favorite _protégé_ of yours—and deservedly so, I must admit—he shall be well paid for the service he has rendered you. I will send him a check for a thousand dollars to-morrow.” “Marcel!” exclaimed Gloria, lifting herself up and looking him straight in the face, “if you do such a thing as that I will never forgive you as long as I live in this world!” “Gloria, what on earth do you mean? Have you gone crazy, child?” “No, but I think you have!” “What do you mean?” “I mean just what I say, Colonel de Crespigney! If you were to offer David Lindsay money for saving my life, I would never speak to you again as long as I should live on this earth!” “But, my dear, unreasonable child, why should I not do so?” “‘Why?’ I wonder you, a gentleman and a soldier, you, a De Crespigney, cannot see why?” said Gloria, harping a little upon his own words of a few minutes past. “I cannot see; but if you or any one can, I should like to be informed of the reason,” said the colonel, in the same spirit. “Then I will tell you. Suppose it had fallen to your lot to rescue Dame Lindsay from drowning, and David Lindsay had offered you money, as much as he could afford, in payment of your services, what would you have thought? How would you have felt?” “My dearest Gloria, the cases differ totally,” exclaimed the colonel, with a flushed brow. “They do not differ in one essential point, uncle, and you know it, and feel it now, if you neither knew nor felt it before. I will yield to your wishes and return home with you to-day. But you must not insult my preserver by offering him any sort of reward for saving me. You may thank him, for yourself and for me; but thank him as you would thank General Stuart, or Doctor Battis, or any other gentleman of your acquaintance, had either of them rendered me the same inestimable service.” “My dear, absurd child, I do thank him more than tongue can tell. I think the most practical way of expressing my thanks would be to send him a check for a round sum; but if you prefer that I should take off my hat to him instead, why, I will do that.” “Yes, do that. Take off your hat to him. And, now please to go to the foot of the stairs there and call Granny Lindsay down. She will get cold if she stays up in that fireless loft any longer,” said Gloria, who had been anxious all this time on account of her old friend. “Mrs. Lindsay, Miss de la Vera would like to see you,” said Colonel de Crespigney, from the foot of the ladder.