"No, you didn't, Leslie. I beg pardon. You're a good fellow, Leslie. True gentleman. No man could have done more for us. But only to think of that woman attacking poor George and me as soon as we got back from the funeral. Abused him for degrading his son, and driving him to his terrible death. It was horrible, sir. Said she would never forgive him, and drove Louise sobbing out of the room." Duncan Leslie winced, and Uncle Luke gave him a stern look. "Ah, fool--fool--fool!" he exclaimed. "Can't you keep out of those trammels? Louise? Yes, a nice girl--now; but she'll grow up exactly like her aunt. We're a half-mad family, Leslie. Keep away from us." "Mr Luke Vine--" "No, no. You need not say anything. Be content as you are, young man. Women are little better than monkeys, only better-looking. Look at my sister. Told George last night that he was living under false pretences, because he signed his name Vine. Bah! she's an idiot. Half mad." He turned sharply round from gazing out to sea, and looked keenly in Leslie's face. "Very well," he said quickly. "I don't care if you think I am." "Really, Mr Luke Vine, I--" "Don't trouble yourself to say it. You thought I wasn't much better than my sister. I could see you did. Very well; perhaps I am not, but I don't go dancing my lunacy in everybody's face. Ah, it's a queer world, Leslie." "No, sir; it is the people who are queer." "Humph! That's not bad for you, Leslie. Yes; you are about right. It is the people who are queer. I'm a queer one, so my folks think, because I sent my plate to the bank, had my furniture in a big town house sold, and came to live down here. My sister says, to disgrace them all. There, I'm better now. Want to speak to me?" "N-no, nothing very particular, Mr Vine." Uncle Luke tightened his lips, and stared fiercely out to sea. "Even he can't tell the truth," he said. "Stupid fellow! Just as if I couldn't read him through and through." The meeting was assuming an unpleasant form when there was a diversion, Poll Perrow coming slowly up, basket on back, examining each face keenly with her sharp, dark eyes. "Morning, Master Leslie," she said in her sing-song tone. "Nice morning, my son. Morning, Master Luke Vine, sir. Got any fish for me to-day?" Leslie nodded impatiently; Uncle Luke did not turn his head. "I said to myself," continued the old woman, "Master Luke Vine saw that shoal of bass off the point this morning, and he'll be sure to have a heavy basket for me of what he don't want. Dessay I can sell you one, Mr Leslie, sir." "Can't you see when two gentlemen are talking?" said Uncle Luke, snappishly. "Go away." "Ay, that I will, Master Luke, only let's have the fish first." "I told you I haven't been fishing." "Nay, not a word, Master Luke. Now, did he, Master Leslie? No fish, and I've tramped all the way up here for nothing." "Shouldn't have come, then."