For this was before that important bill was passed, which has not had (like so many other bills) the disastrous consequences which Mr. Lynch foresaw. They were met at the station by the pony carriage, and at the door by Elinor herself, who came flying out to meet them. She seized Mr. Lynch by both arms, for he was a little old man, and she was bigger than he was. “Now you will remember what I said,” she cried in his ear, yet not so low but that John heard it too. “You are a little witch; you mustn’t insist upon anything so foolish. Leave all that to me, my dear,” said Mr. Lynch. “What do you know about business? You must leave it to me and the other gentleman, who I suppose is here, or coming.” “He is here, but I don’t care for him. I care only for you. There are such advantages; and I do know a great deal about business; and,” she said, with her mouth close to the old lawyer’s ear, “it will please Phil so much if I show my confidence in him, and in the things with which he has to do.” “It will not please him so much if the thing bursts, and you are left without a penny, my dear.” Elinor laughed. “I don’t suppose he will mind a bit: he cares nothing for money. But I do,” she said. “You know you always say women love acquisition. I want good interest, and of course with Phil on it, it must be safe for me.” “Oh, that makes it like the Bank of England, you think! but I don’t share your confidence, my pretty Elinor. I’m an old fellow. No Phil in the world has any charm for me. You must trust me to do what I feel is best for you. And Mr. Tatham here is quite of my opinion.” “Oh, John! he is sure to be against me,” said Elinor, with an angry glimmer in her eyes. She had not as yet taken any notice of him while she welcomed with such warmth his old companion. And John had stood by offering no greeting, with his bag in his hand. But when she said this the quick-feeling girl was seized with compunction. She turned from Mr. Lynch and held out both her hands to her cousin. “John, I didn’t mean that; it is only that I am excited and cross. And don’t, oh, don’t go against me,” she cried. “I never did, and never will, Elinor,” he said gravely. Then he asked, after a moment, “Is Mr. Compton here?” “No; how could he be here? Three gentlemen in the cottage is enough to overwhelm us already. Mr. Sharp, fortunately, can’t stay,” she added, lowering her voice; “he has to be driven back to the station to catch the last express. And it is August,” she said with a laugh; “you forget the 15th. Now, could Phil be anywhere but where there is grouse? You shall have some to dinner to-night that fell by his gun. That should mollify you, for I am sure you never got grouse at the cottage before in August. Mamma would as soon think of buying manna for you to eat.” “I think it would have been more respectful, Elinor, if he had been here. What is grouse to you?”