“She shouldn’t do that, though,” said the old man, “she’s Mrs. Piercey, being the son’s wife, the next heir. If Gerald had a wife, now, she’d be Mrs. Gerald, but not yours. I’m afraid she can’t know much about it. Gervase, your poor mother was struck very suddenly. She always feared you were going to do something like that, and she had somebody in her mind, but she was never able to tell me who it was. Gervase, I hope it is somebody decent you have married, now your poor mother isn’t here.” “Oh, yes, father; awfully decent,” said Gervase, with his great laugh. “She would have given it to any one that wasn’t civil. She was one that kept you on and kept you off, and as clever as Old Boots himself, and up to----” Patty had listened to this discussion till her patience was quite worn out. She had waited for a favourable moment to introduce herself, but she could not stand and hear this description, so far beneath her merits as she felt it to be. She came in with a little rush of her skirts, not disagreeable to the old man, who looked up vaguely expectant, to see her sweep round the corner of the large screen that shielded him from the draught. “I must come and tell you myself who I am, Sir Giles,” she said. “I’m Patience; and though, perhaps, I shouldn’t say it, I’m one that will take care of _that_, and take care of the house, and see that you are not put upon by your servants, nor made to wait for anything, but have whatever you wish. And I’ll be a very good daughter to you, if you’ll let me, Sir Giles,” she said.