"Humph! all very fine! Shilling or fifteen pence out of pocket," grumbled Uncle Luke. "Get out!" said Van Heldre, after a keen look at George Vine. "Poll Perrow wouldn't have given you more than ninepence for a fish like that. It's wholesale, Luke, wholesale." "Ah! you may grin and wink at George," grumbled Uncle Luke, "but times are getting hard." "They are, old fellow, and we shall be having you in the workhouse, if we can't manage to get you to the Victoria Park place." "Here, come away, George," snarled Uncle Luke. "He's better. Beginning to sneer. Temper's getting very bad now, I suppose, my dear?" he added to Madelaine. "Terrible. Leads me a dreadful life, Uncle Luke," she said, putting her arm round Van Heldre's neck to lay her cheek against his brow for a moment or two before turning to leave the room. "Cant and carny," said Uncle Luke. "Don't you believe her, John Van; she'll be coming to you for money to-morrow--bless her," he added _sotto voce_; then aloud, "What now?" For Madelaine had gone behind his chair, and placed her hands upon his shoulders. "It's all waste of breath, Uncle Luke," she said gently. "We found you out a long time ago, Louise and I." "What do you mean?" "All this pretended cynicism. It's a mere disguise." "An ass in the lion's skin, eh?" "No, Uncle Luke," she whispered, with her lips close to his ear, so that the others should not catch the words, "that is the wrong way, sir. Reverse the fable." "What do you mean, hussy?" "The dear old lion in the ass' skin," she whispered; "and whenever you try to bray it is always a good honest roar." "Well, of all--" He did not finish, for Madelaine had hurried from the room, but a grim smile came over his cynical countenance, and he rubbed his hands softly as if he was pleased. Then, drawing his chair nearer to the bed, he joined in the conversation at rare intervals, the subjects chosen being all as foreign as possible from the past troubles, till Mrs Van Heldre came softly into the room. "I am Doctor Knatchbull's deputy," she said; "and my orders are not to let John excite himself." "All nonsense, my dear," said Van Heldre. "She is quite right, John," said George Vine, rising. "Quite right," said Uncle Luke, following his brother's example. "Keep him quiet. Make haste and get well. Good night. Come, George." He was at the door by the time he had finished his speech, and without pausing to shake hands began to descend. Madelaine came out of the drawing-room as the old man reached the hall. "What do you think of him?" she said eagerly. "Going backwards--dying fast," he said shortly. "Oh!" "Don't be a little goose," he cried, catching her in his arms as she reeled. "We all are; especially people over fifty. Bonny little nurse. You've done wonders. Good night, my dear; God bless you!" She returned his loving fatherly kiss, given hastily, as if he were ashamed of his weakness, and then he strode out into the dark night.