"Indeed, I intend to give you nothing of the sort," said Rupert bluffly. "All the difference will be that my wife will give you orders instead of me." Mrs. Beatson looked as though this would make a very great difference indeed, as she much preferred to have a master than a mistress. All the same, she looked relieved when she learned that her situation was not in danger. "I am glad to stay on, Mr. Hendle," she said, with the air of making a concession. "I look on The Big House as in some sense my home." "That's all right. Continue to look upon it as your home, until Kit marries Miss Tollart and you go to live with them." "Pardon me, Mr. Hendle," said Mrs. Beatson with icy scorn; "but you little know my nature when you suggest such a thing. I don't approve of Sophy Tollart, whose views regarding our sex are anything but pacific. Besides, young people rarely take the advice of those who are older and wiser than they are; consequently, it is best for them to live by themselves. Would you like Mr. Mallien to dwell at The Big House when you wed with his daughter?" "Good Lord, no," replied Hendle hastily. "It is the last thing either I or Miss Mallien would desire. We can manage our own affairs." "So you think, Mr. Hendle; but the mistakes you will make will be endless." "Nonsense, I am not a fool, and Miss Mallien has plenty of good sense." "Sense isn't experience," lamented Mrs. Beatson, shaking her head and smiling in a most dreary manner. "However, I am no prophetess of evil, and wish you and Miss Mallien well. But mistakes you will make, say what you will, and sorrow will come to you as it comes to all." "There! There! Don't croak any more, Mrs. Beatson." "Me croak," repeated the lady in surprise. "Why, I am trying to look on the bright side of things, for whatever you may say there is always a black side." "Well, well," observed Rupert testily, for her words and manner irritated his usually steady nerves. "We'll wait and see what happens. Never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you, is a very good proverb." "I annoy you by speaking the truth," remarked the good lady with a superior smile. "Ah, that is always the way with the young, sir. However, you have only to say the word and I go." "I don't want you to go." "You may not, Mr. Hendle, but Miss Mallien will." "Not at all. She is quite willing that you should stay." "So she says, but I have my doubts;" and Mrs. Beatson groaned, being quite sure in her own mind that Dorinda wished to turn her out to die by the wayside. "However, this is a world of sorrow, and when I am starved to death, perhaps you may be sorry for your harsh treatment." "Wait until the harsh treatment takes place," retorted Rupert, who would have liked to shake her into common sense. "Meanwhile, I have told you of my intention to get married next month."