'He and his wife thought it a burning shame, he told Mr. Ancrum; and, besides, he's been buying up house property in Manchester for some time past, only we couldn't know that--that was just luck. He looked upon it as a good chance both for him and for me. He told his lawyer it must be all settled in three hours, and he didn't mind the price. The lawyer found out that Purcell was haggling, went in to win, put the cash down, and here in my pocket I've got the fresh agreement between me and Mr. Doyle--three months' notice on either side, and no likelihood of my being turned out, if I want to stay, for the next three or four years. Hurrah!' And the lad, quite beside himself with jubilation, raised the blue cap he held in his hand, and flung it round his head. Dora stood and looked at him, leaning lightly against the table, her arms behind her. His triumph carried her away; her lips parted in a joyous smile; her whole soft, rounded figure trembled with animation and sympathy. As for Daddy, he could not contain himself. He ran to the top of the stairs, and sent a kitchen-boy flying for a bottle of champagne. 'Drink, you varmint, drink!' he said, when the liquor came, 'or I'll be the death of you! Hold your tongue, Dora! Do you think a man can put up with temperance drinks when his enemy's smitten hip and thigh? Oh, you jewel, David, but you'll bring him low, lad--you'll bring him low before you've done--promise me that. I shall see him a beggar yet, lad, shan't I? Oh, nectar!' And Daddy poured down his champagne, apostrophising it and David's vengeance together. Dora looked distressed. 'Father--Lucy! How can you say such things?' 'Lucy--eh?--Lucy? She won't be a beggar. She'll marry; she's got a bit of good looks of her own. But, David, my lad, what was it you were saying? How was it you got wind of this precious business?' David hesitated. 'Well, it was Miss Purcell told me,' he said. 'She came to see me at my place last evening.' He drew himself together with a little nervous dignity, as though foreseeing that Daddy would make remarks. 'Miss Purcell!--what, Lucy?--_Lucy? Upon_ my word, Davy! Why, her father'll wring her neck when he finds it out. And she came to warn you?' Daddy stood a moment taking in the situation, then, with a queer grin, he walked up to David and poked him in the ribs. 'So there were passages--eh, young man--when you were up there?' The young fellow straightened himself, with a look of annoyance. 'Nothing of the sort, Daddy; there were no passages. But Miss Lucy's done me a real friendly act, and I'd do the same for her any day.' Dora had sat down to her silks again. As David spoke she bent closely over them, as though the lamp-light puzzled her usually quick perception of shade and quality. As for Daddy, he eyed the lad doubtfully. 'She's got a pretty waist and a brown eye, Davy, and she's seventeen.'