"I was the destined inheritor, as you know--for I'm sure nobody has been reticent upon the subject--of these broad lands," with a sweep of the hand towards the plains outside. "Captain Monk is now pleased to inform me that he thinks of substituting for me Mrs. Hamlyn's child." "But would not that be very unjust?" "Hardly fair--as it seems to me. Considering that my good uncle obliged me to give up my own prospects for it." She stood, her hands clasped in sympathy, her face full of earnest sadness. "How unkind! Why, it would be cruel!" "Well, I confess I felt it to be so at the first blow. But, standing at the outside window yonder, pulling myself together, a ray or two of light crept in, showing me that it may be for the best after all. 'Whatever _is_, is right,' you know." "Yes," she slowly said--"if you can think so. But, Mr. Carradyne, should you not have anything at all?--anything to live upon after Captain Monk's death?" "Just a trifle, I calculate, as the Americans say--and it is calculating I have been--so that I need not altogether starve. Would you like to know how much it will be?" "Oh, please don't laugh at me!"--for it suddenly struck the girl that he was laughing, perhaps in reproof, and that she had spoken too freely. "I ought not to have asked that; I was not thinking--I was too sorry to think." "But I may as well tell you, if you don't mind. I have a very pretty little place, which you have seen and heard of, called by that delectable title Peacock's Range----" "Is Peacock's Range yours?" she interrupted, in surprise. "I thought it belonged to Mr. Peveril." "Peacock's Range is mine and was my father's before me, Miss Alice. It was leased to Peveril for a term of years, but I fancy he would be glad to give it up to-morrow. Well, I have Peacock's Range and about four hundred pounds a-year." Her face brightened. "Then you need not talk about starving," she said, gaily. "And, later, I shall have altogether about a thousand a-year. Though I hope it will be very long before it falls to me. Do you think two people might venture to set up at Peacock's Range, and keep, say, a couple of servants upon four hundred a-year? Could they exist upon it?" "Oh, dear, yes," she answered eagerly, quite unconscious of his drift. "Did you mean yourself and some friend?" He nodded. "Why, I don't see how they could spend it all. There'd be no rent to pay. And just think of all the fruit and vegetables in the garden there!" "Then I take you at your word, Alice," he cried, impulsively, passing his arm round her waist. "You are the 'friend.' My dear, I have long wanted to ask you to be my wife, and I did not dare. This place, Leet Hall, encumbered me: for I feared the opposition that I, as its heir, should inevitably meet." She drew away from him, with doubting, frightened eyes. Mr. Harry Carradyne brought all the persuasion of his own dancing blue ones to bear upon her. "Surely, Alice, you will not say me nay!"