Not in the least startled by the peremptory tone which Vyner had now for the first time used towards him, the old man folded his hands with an air of resignation, and stood without uttering a word. “Did you hear what Sir Gerrais said to you?” asked Georgina, after a pause of some seconds. “Yes, my Lady.” “And what answer have you to make?” asked she again, more imperatively. “‘Tis your Ladyship is right,” began Malone, in a voice greatly subdued, and with almost a slight whining intonation through it; “‘tis your Ladyship is right. His honour is too good and too patient with me. But what am I but a poor ignorant labourin’ man, that never had any edication nor larnin’ at all? And if I be thinkin’ of more than I ought, it’s because I know no better.” “Well, what will you do?” said Vyner, hastily, for there was a servility in the man’s manner that revolted him, and he was impatient to conclude. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, if your honour lets me,” said Malone, resolutely, “I’ll go and speak to Kitty. She’s cute enough, young as she is, and whatever she says I’ll abide by.” “Do so; take your own way altogether, my good man; and be assured that whichever decision you come to will not in any degree affect our future dealings together.” “That is, your honour won’t turn me out of my houldin’.” “Nothing of the kind.” “He never suspected you would,” said Georgina, but in a very cautious whisper, which this time escaped Malone. “I’ll not be ten minutes, your honour,” said he, as he moved towards the door. “Take as much time as you please.” “He’ll not part with her, I see that,” said Lady Vyner, as the man withdrew. Georgina gave a saucy laugh, and said, “He never so much as dreamed of taking her away; his whole mind was bent upon a hard bargain; and now that he has got the best terms he could, he’ll close the contract.” “You don’t believe too implicitly in humanity,” said Sir Within, smiling. “I believe in men only when they are gentlemen,” said she; and there was a very gracious glance as she spoke, which totally effaced all unpleasant memory of the past. CHAPTER XXIV. A QUIET TALK IN A GARDEN.