Madelaine gave him a smile and nod but left the old man with her father, and followed her mother and Leslie into the dining-room. "So that's to be it, is it, Van, eh?" "I don't know," was the reply. "It's all very sudden and a surprise to me." "Angled for it, haven't you?" "Angled? No." "She has then. My dear boy, son of my heart, the very man for my darling, eh?" chuckled Uncle Luke. "Be quiet, you sham cynic," said Van Heldre dreamily. "Don't banter me, Luke, I'm sorely ill at ease." "About money, eh?" cried Uncle Luke eagerly. "Money? No! I was thinking about those poor fellows out at sea." "In your brig, eh? Ah, 'tis sad. But that money--quite safe, eh?" "Oh yes, safe enough." "Oh, do come, papa dear," said Madelaine, reappearing at the door. "Dinner is waiting." "Yes, yes, we're coming, my dear," said Van Heldre, laying his hand affectionately on Uncle Luke's shoulder, and they were soon after seated round the table, with the elder visitor showing at times quite another side of his character. No allusion was made to the adventure of the morning, but Leslie felt in the gentle tenderness displayed towards him by mother and daughter that much had been said, and that he had won a very warm place in their regard. In fact, in word and look, Mrs Van Heldre seemed to be giving him a home in her motherly heart, which was rather embarrassing, and would have been more so, but for Madelaine's frank, pleasant way of meeting his gaze, every action seemed to be sisterly and affectionate but nothing more. So Leslie read them, but so did not the ciders at the table. By mutual consent no allusion was made to the missing brig, and it seemed to Leslie that the thoughts of mother and daughter were directed principally to one point, that of diverting Van Heldre from his troublesome thoughts. "Ah, I was hungry," said Uncle Luke, when the repast was about half over. "Very pleasant meal, only wanted one thing to make it perfect." "Why, my dear Luke Vine, why didn't you speak? What is it? oh, pray say." "Society," said Uncle Luke, after pausing for a moment to turn towards the window, a gust having given it a tremendous shake. "I say, if I find my place blown away, can you find me a dry shed or a dog kennel or something, Leslie?" "Don't talk such stuff, Luke Vine," cried Mrs Van Heldre. "Don't take any notice of him, Mr Leslie, he's a rich old miser and nothing else. Now, Luke Vine, what do you mean?" "Said what I meant, society. Why didn't you ask my sister to dinner? She'd have set us all right, eh, Madelaine?" "Oh, I don't know," said Madelaine, smiling. "But I do," cried her mother; "she'd have set us all by the ears with her nonsense. You are a strange pair." "We are--we are. Nice sherry this, Van." "Glad you like it," said Van Heldre, with his eyes turned towards the window, as if he expected news. "How a woman can be so full of pride and so useless puzzles me." "Mamma!" whispered Madelaine, with an imploring look.