“It’s a lie!” she retorted. “I wasn’t afraid of him, and you know it! Afraid! No, it’s him that has cause to fear, and to fear me!” She shook herself with a catlike motion. “But I don’t want to speak of him. The time’ll come when I’ll show you, and him too--but that’s neither here nor there. You’ve come after me for money, and I’ve told you that you won’t get any. I’ve done with you and yours----” “No gypsy can get clear of her people,” he said, as if he were stating an established fact beyond question. She laughed defiantly. “That’s rubbish,” she said, promptly. “All that nonsense is dead and gone. What, do you think I’d own a set of dirty tramps?” He sprang to his feet, his face flushed for the first time. “You’d better keep that between your teeth, my girl,” he said, threateningly. “Then don’t you drive me to it,” she retorted in a more subdued tone. “How much do you want--five pounds?” He sank back in his chair, and resumed the grapes with a laugh. “I want twenty times as much.” Her eyes flashed down on him. “Then you may go!” she said, resolutely. “A hundred pounds!” scornfully, “why should I give it to you--what harm can you do me?” “Perhaps I can do you some good. Oh, I don’t want you to give it me for nothing. I’ll sell you something fair and square.” “You’ll sell me something?” she repeated, frowning. “What do you mean? Speak out.” “All right,” he said, tossing the grape-stems on the cloth. “I’ll sell you some news, my girl.” “News?” she echoed, leaning forward, her eyes fixed on his face. “Yes,” he said, with a confident nod. “News you’ll be glad to pay me more for than I’ve asked. _I’ve found him._” She sprang upright, and, clutching his arm, bent down till her face, deadly white, was close to his, her black eyes flaming with intense excitement. “You’ve--you’ve found him!” she breathed. “I have,” he said, coolly, shaking his arm free of her steel-like clasp. “Come outside”--he glanced at the door--“come out of this, and I’ll tell you!” CHAPTER XIX. “LOVE CAME TOO LATE.” Mr. Bartley Bradstone, as he left the garden after his remarkably unpleasant interview with Harold Faradeane, decided to strike while the iron was hot. He had got the net round Olivia; he resolved to draw it tight. From that evening he kept a close guard on himself, and his manner changed--for the better. In fact, to the casual observer he would have passed as a remarkably good-tempered man. He was polite to the servants, deferential to the squire, attentive to Miss Amelia, and to Olivia was devoted and reverential. Not only the Grange people but outsiders noticed the change. “Bradstone has improved since his engagement,” said Lord Carfield. “But daily intercourse with Olivia Vanley would tame a savage and educate a bear!” He watched Olivia as a cat does a mouse, and she was quite afraid of expressing a desire for anything, lest he should rush off and procure it for her.