"No, you've made no complaints, but you show it in your way, don't you see. It wasn't for me to be too strict in my inquiries about people, Mr Linnell. I'm sorry I offended you; but what can I do?" "Mr Barclay has a perfect right to do what he pleases with his own house," replied the elder Linnell with dignity. "Good-day." "Now I could buy that man up a hundred times over," grumbled Barclay as he walked away, richer by many pounds than when he started on his journey that morning; "but he always seems to set me down; to look upon me with contempt; and young Richard is as high and mighty as can be. Ah, well, wait a bit!--`Can you oblige me with fifty pounds, Mr Barclay, on my note of hand?'--and then p'raps they'll be more civil. "Things ain't pleasant though, just now. One house made notorious by a murder, and me letting a couple of actresses lodge in another. Well, they pay regular, and I dare say she'll make a good match somewhere before long; but I'm afraid, when the old lady gets to know they're stage people, there'll be a bit of a breeze." Volume One, Chapter XXI. DICK CATCHES SHRIMPS. There was quite a little crowd at the end of the pier to see Fisherman Dick and some others busy with boathooks searching for the fragments of Cora Dean's pony carriage, and for want of something better to stare at, the fastening of a rope to first one pair of wheels and then to the other, and the hauling ashore, formed thrilling incidents. Two rich carriage-cloaks were cast ashore by the tide, miles away, and the rug was found right under the pier, but there were several articles still missing. Cora's reticule, containing her purse and cut-glass scent-bottle; a little carriage-clock used by Mrs Dean, who was always very particular about the lapse of time, and that lady's reticule and purse. It was Fisherman Dick's special task to search for them when the tide was low, and this he did by going to work as a setter does in a field, quartering the ground and hunting it all over to and fro. But Fisherman Dick did his work with a shrimping-net, and one day he took home the little carriage-clock and showed it to his wife. Another day he found Mrs Dean's reticule, and caught a great many shrimps as well. Then the tide did not serve for several days, and he had to wait, shaking his head and telling Mrs Miggles he was afraid the sand would have covered everything. "Then give it up," said Mrs Miggles, who was trying to sew with the little girl in her lap, but was prevented by the tiny thing making dashes at her broad-brimmed silver spectacles, which it kept taking off and flourishing in one little plump hand. "Well done, little 'un," cried the fisherman, grinning. "No, missus, I don't like being beat."