"By marriage," put in Captain Bontnor, with simple bluntness. He was brushing his hat with a large pocket-handkerchief. "And I have pleasant recollections of his kindness in past years. I stayed with him at the Casa d'Erraha more than once. I was staying there when--well, some years ago. I think you had better come and live with me until your poor father's affairs have been put in order." Captain Bontnor raised his head and ceased his operations on the dusty hat. His keen old eyes, full of opposition, were fixed on Eve's face. He was quite ready to be rude again, but women know how to avoid these shallow places better than men, with a policy which is not always expedient perhaps. "Thank you," replied Eve. "Thank you very much, but my uncle has kindly offered me a home." Mrs. Harrington's grey face suggested a scorn which she apparently did not think it worth while to conceal from a person who wiped the inside of his hat with his pocket-handkerchief in a lady's presence. "But," she said coldly, "I should think that your uncle cannot fail to see the superior advantages of the offer I am now making you, from a social point of view, if from no other." "I do see them advantages, marm," said the captain bluntly. He looked at Eve with something dog-like peering from beneath his shaggy eyebrows. "Of course," continued Mrs. Harrington, ignoring the confession, "you have been brought up as a lady, and are accustomed to refinement, and in some degree to luxury." "You needn't make it any plainer, marm," blurted out Captain Bontnor. "I don't need you to tell me that my niece is above me. I don't set up for bein' anything nor what I am. There's not much of the gentleman about me. But--" He paused, and half turned towards Eve. "But, 'cording to my lights, I'm seeking to do my duty towards the orphan child of my sister Amelia Ann." "Not overlooking the fact, I suppose, that the orphan child of your sister Amelia Ann has a very fair income of her own." Captain Bontnor smiled blandly, and smoothed his hat with his sleeve. "Not overlooking that fact, marm," he said, "if you choose to take it so." Mrs. Harrington turned to Eve again with a faint reflex of her overbearing manner towards the Ingham-Bakers and other persons who found it expedient to submit. "You will see at a glance," she said, "that it is impossible for you to live with Captain Bontnor." "I have already accepted his kind offer," returned the girl. "Thank you, nevertheless." "But," said Mrs. Harrington, "that was before you knew that I was ready to make a home for you." Captain Bontnor had turned away. He blew his nose so loudly that Mrs. Harrington frowned. There was something trumpet-like and defiant in the sound. Opposition had ever a strange effect on this spoilt woman. She liked it, as serving to enhance the value of the wish which she rarely failed to gratify in the end.