She had not far to go. The villa where she lived was within five minutes' walk. She ran in, and found her mother alone in the drawing-room. "My dear," the mother said, irritably, "I wish to goodness you wouldn't run out after dinner. Where have you been?" "Only into the garden, and to look at the sea." "There's Sir William in the dining-room still." "Let him stay there, mother dear. He'll drink up all the wine and go to sleep, perhaps, and then we shall be rid of him." "Go in, Florence, and bring him out. It isn't good for him, at his age, to drink so much." "Let the servants go," the girl replied, rebellious. "My dear, your own accepted lover! Have you no right feeling? O Florence! and when I am so ill, and you know--I told you--" "A woman should not marry her grandfather. I've had more than enough of him to-day already. You made me promise to marry him. Until I do marry he may amuse himself. As soon as we are married, I shall fill up all the decanters, and keep them full, and encourage him to drink as much as ever he possibly can." "My dear, are you mad?" "Oh no! I believe I have only just come to my senses. Mad? No. I have been mad. Now, when it is too late, I am sane. When it is too late--when I have just understood what I have done." "Nonsense, child! What do you mean by being too late? Besides, you are doing what every girl does. You have accepted the hand of an old man who can give you a fine position and a great income and every kind of luxury. What more can a girl desire? When I die--you know already--there will be nothing--nothing at all for you. Marriage is your only chance." At this moment the door opened, and Sir William himself appeared. He was not, although a man so rich, and therefore so desirable, quite a nice old man to look at--not quite such an old man as a girl would fall in love with at first sight; but perhaps under the surface there lay unsuspected virtues by the dozen. He was short and fat; his hair was white; his face was red; he had great white eyebrows; he had thick lips; his eyes rolled unsteadily, and his shoulders lurched; he had taken much more wine than is good for a man of seventy. He held out both hands and lurched forward. "Florenshe," he said, thickly, "letsh sit down together somewhere. Letsh talk, my dear." The girl slipped from the proffered hands and fled from the room. "Whatsh matter with the girl?" said Sir William.