’My dear Mirelle,’ he said in a gentle, soothing tone, ’do not misunderstand me. What I mean is harmless enough not to offend you. Did you ask his advice, and in your first loneliness give him such occasion as to suppose that he was necessary, that as a pert and pushing cock-sparrow he has hopped in where not wanted, since you have come under the protection of others?’ ’No,’ answered Mirelle, ’I have always kept him at a distance. When he has volunteered help it has been declined. He came here about the money not for my sake only, but for the sake of some friends whom he wanted to assist out of a difficulty.’ ’Oh! he wanted to help friends to your money! How disinterested and how benevolent!’ ’He wished to have my money invested in mortgages on the estate of West Wyke.’ ’What did Mr. Trampleasure say to that?’ ’He absolutely refused. He said he had a better investment in view, one that would render double.’ ’What was that?—not Patagonia?’ ’No; Ophir.’ ’What! The gold mines of Ophir?’ ’Yes, my money is to be put into that.’ Captain Trecarrel vented a low whistle, and stood up quickly. ’Dear Countess, always command my services—as a friend,’ he said. ’Excuse my flight, I must have a word with Tramplara at once.’ He hurried from the summer-house, and entered the front door of Dolbeare. He was so often there that he no longer went through the formality of ringing. It was Liberty Hall, as Tramplara assured all his friends. He tapped at the dining-room door and went in. There he found Mr. Tramplara smoking and working at accounts. Orange sat near the window; she had been speaking with her father, and had been crying. Both father and daughter rose hastily as the Captain came in, and Trecarrel had sufficient penetration to see that he had been their topic. ’Halloo, Captain!’ exclaimed the old man, turning almost purple. ’Talk of the—hum, and he is sure to appear, as the psalmist says. The very man I wanted to see. How are you?’ Orange slipped out of the room. ’Sit down, Captain, and let us have a talk. Fact is, I want particularly to have a bone picked with you. There is Orange, poor girl, wasting to a shadow. You are not dealing fairly by her; you are engaged, and yet you won’t come to the scratch. She says you are tateytating with the other party on the trotters, as Mirelle calls the pavement, and give Orange the gutter to walk in. That won’t do.’