“What is it all? what is it all?” he thought desperately. “Am I in good truth being stalked and shadowed, and for what reason? And is that fellow in the league against me? Blythewood knows him well, and has a high opinion of him. What then? What favourable view can I possibly take of his reticence and evasiveness? For all I know, Blythewood himself may be the chief of a colony of pads and cut-throats. I am a lamb amongst wolves--knowing nought of the neighbourhood; moving in the dark. I am drowned and overwhelmed in a sea of mysteries--in a cursed Lake of Wine. And there, there, there! Luvaine’s fabulous stone!” He sprang to his feet, and set to pacing the room. “By God!” he cried aloud, “I will stand it no more! I will be master of my own, and subscribe no longer to the infernal bullying of circumstances!” In the midst of his excitement the vision of Angela rose before him, sparkling, _spirituelle_--a true child of the thoughtless, effervescent life of his everyday custom. “Oh, I am a fool!” he murmured. “She and her brother carry their patents of respectability on their sleeves.” But from now he was determined to throw off all gloom and trepidation; to go his way and improve his estate without idle speculations as to antagonistic forces at work, and to strike, and strike hard, if he was interfered with. All that day he sang and whistled over his labour of investigation. Perhaps, in the background of his fancy, rose and broadened a dawn of new hopes and possibilities. Perhaps he pictured there a “Delsrop” restored, cultivated and flourishing, and contiguous to other fruitful acres, wherein his interest was figured in a certain dainty lady, destined to be the mother of one who should recover his own waived surname and title. For so, he could not forbear reflecting, had the titular restriction been imposed upon himself alone. He was coming across his lawn on the afternoon of the following day, when he noticed a cart issue from the drive and stop, and saw Betty Pollack jump down with a basket on her arm. He strolled, conscious of a sudden spring of pleasure in his veins, towards the girl, who dropped a pretty curtsey to him as he neared her. “Come round the kitchen-gardens, Betty,” said he; “and see if you can supply anything we don’t already possess.” He glanced with a certain defiance, as he spoke, at the old gaffer seated in the gig, mumchance and blinking, like a withered owl, and led the way to a crazy door that opened into a walled garden. Betty followed him timidly, and looked shyly about her as he introduced her to the prospect. “There!” said he. “Is not that Eden?” “It is very neglected and unkempt,” said the girl gravely. “There is work for two men here for many days; and then the soil would want well manuring, to make it fruitful.” He laughed. His careless eye roved over her charms luxuriously. Suddenly, child of his new-found tenderness, a great pity awoke in his heart for this poor lamb, so treacherously shepherded.