It was four o'clock, and the promenade on cliff and pier in full swing. Her father would not be back for two hours, Morton was away somewhere, and it was so dreadful--so degrading--to be obliged to see her brother, the prodigal, in the servants' part of the house. For herself she would not have cared, but it was lowering her brother; and, trying to be calm and firm, she said: "Show him in here, Isaac." "In here, miss?" "Yes." "Please ma'am, master said--" "Show him in here, Isaac," said Claire, drawing herself up with her eyes flashing, and the colour returning to her cheeks. The footman backed out quickly, and directly after there was the clink of spurs, and a heavy tread. Then the door opened and closed, and Major Hockley's servant, James Bell, otherwise Fred Denville, strode into the room; and Isaac's retreating steps were heard. "Fred!" cried Claire, throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing the handsome bronzed face again and again. "My darling girl!" he cried, holding her tightly to his breast, while his face lit up as he returned her caresses. "Oh, Fred!" she said, as she laid her hands then upon his shoulders and gazed at him at arm's length, "you've been drinking." "One half-pint of ale. That's all: upon my soul," he said. "I say, I wish it were not wicked to commit murder." If he had by some blow paralysed her he could not have produced a greater change in her aspect, for her eyes grew wild and the colour faded out of her cheeks and lips. "Don't look like that," he said, smiling. "I shan't do it--at least, not while I'm sober; but I should like to wring that supercilious scoundrel's neck. He looks down upon me in a way that is quite comical." "Why did you come, dear?" said Claire sadly. "Oh, Fred, if I could but buy you out, so that you could begin life again." "No good, my dear little girl," he said tenderly. "There's something wrong in my works. I've no stability, and I should only go wrong again." "But, if you would try, Fred." "Try, my pet!" he said fiercely; "Heaven knows how I did try, but the drink was too much for me. If we had been brought up to some honest way of making a living, and away from this sham, I might have been different, but it drove me to drink, and I never had any self-command. I'm best where I am; obliged to be sober as the Major's servant." There was a contemptuous look in his eyes as he said this last. "And that makes it so much worse," sighed Claire with a sad smile. "If you were only the King's servant--a soldier--I would not so much mind." "Perhaps it is best as it is," he said sternly. "Don't say that, Fred dear." "But I do say it, girl. If I had been brought up differently--Bah! I didn't come here to grumble about the old man." "No, no, pray, pray don't. And, Fred dear, you must not stop. Do you want a little money?" "Yes!" he cried eagerly. "No! Curse it all, girl, I wish you would not tempt me. So you are not glad to see me?"