He merely said in the most natural manner: "Oh! Sir, have you come to look for us? We are waiting for Olivia who has gone to speak to Marryott. Miss Seaham is delighted with this room and the view from the window, but she was just suggesting--" "What--what?" interposed the old man sharply; "what is there to be done now? nothing that would improve the prospect I am sure. I did that by cutting down the trees. No, no young lady," softening his first quick tone into an attempt at jocoseness, "you come from Silverton, where de Burgh I hear is playing a fine game, doing grand things with the place; but it won't do for me, I am content with it as it has been, and now is. I leave it to Eugene to make ducks and drakes with his property if he pleases, when I am not here to see it, but," becoming considerably excited, "I'll have nothing of the sort going on whilst I'm alive, no--no--not I. Eugene knows that, don't you Eugene? ha, ha!" "But my dear Sir, you quite mistook me," Eugene soothingly interposed. "Miss Seaham far from suggesting any such expensive improvements as you seem to have taken into your head, was only just now saying," with an arch smile as he glanced at Mary, "how much more she liked this place in its present wild and picturesque disarrangement, than in a state of high and artificial culture. Indeed she is so very simple and unpretending in her taste, that the only thing she could at all suggest, as I was going to tell you to make a place like this, as it is now--quite perfect--would be, plenty of mignonette sown in the beds beneath the windows, as there used to be round her family house in Wales. If there was only this, it seems that all the green-house ruinations might go to the dogs for what she cared." Mary smiled, and of course did not attempt a contradiction of those points in her lover's exculpation which were rather beyond the mark, for the old man's mind was evidently relieved--his alarm abated. "Mignonette!" he repeated, "well, I don't see any harm in that. Yes, that might be done--easily done; we'll see about it by the spring. It is a sweet and pleasant thing to have in summer time; we used to have it I think when your mother was alive," looking at Eugene, "but it's worn out since--and Eugene and I," again addressing Mary, "are no gardeners. You've seen the gardens I suppose, though there is little to be seen now. No! eh? why I thought you were out all this time--where's Olivia? what's she saying to Marryott? it's getting late and she has a long drive to take--I am sure it must be four by this time." "Oh, my dear Sir, nothing like it, besides there is no hurry; no hurry whatever. De Burgh's away, so no matter keeping dinner waiting, (not that I believe Olivia has ever many scruples that way,) even if they are late. Oh, here she is, now we can go out and look about us a little."