"A beast! All her coyness. A bit frightened, perhaps. Don't suppose she was ever kissed before. She liked it, though, a pretty little jade. Well, what are you staring at, you old curmudgeon?" he continued, standing apostrophising a portrait hung over the sideboard--that of a stern-looking, fierce-eyed old man, the said eyes seeming to follow him, go where he would. "I'll kiss her, and as soon as you are dead I'll marry her, and we'll spend your rusty coin, you miserable old usurer. I wish you were out of the world." He threw himself in a great morocco-covered easy-chair and bit his nails carefully all round, pulled off his left-hand glove, and treated the fingers there to the same trimming, as he looked furtively about from the rich thick Turkey carpet to the solid furniture, and the great silver salver on the sideboard; ending by trying to appraise the two fine paintings at the side of the room. "Yes," he muttered, "one ought to do pretty well. I'm tired of being poor--and in debt." "George!" he said softly, after gazing thoughtfully before him. "No, he'll never leave him a penny. The father killed that. Gertie will get all. I shall get Gertie, and the silly little jade will not struggle then." He rose, laughing in an unpleasant way, and began walking up and down the room. Then, growing weary and impatient, he crossed to the door, opened it gently, looked out into the dull hall, with its black and white marble floor, and listened. Tick-tack! tick-tack! the slowly beating off seconds measured by a tall, old-fashioned clock. Not another sound; and Saul Harrington drew back into the room and closed the door. "She'll come down again," he muttered, with the same, unpleasant laugh. "Trust her woman's nature. All latent yet, but it's there, and opportunity will bring it out. All her pretence. She knows that she will be my wife and girls like a little rough courting, or I'm no judge." An hour, that seemed like two, passed slowly away, and then Saul Harrington rang the bell. At the end of a minute a quiet, very old-looking woman in black, with white cap and old-fashioned muslin cross-over, came to the door. "Go and tell Miss Gertrude I am waiting to see her again." "She is with master, sir." "Well, go and tell her, Mrs Denton." The woman shook her head. "I dare not, sir. It would send master into a fit of fury." "Pish! Never mind; I'll wait. How is he?" The woman shook her head, lifted her white apron, and applied a corner to her eyes. "None of that, Mrs Denton," said Saul Harrington, with a sneering laugh. "So fond of him, eh?" "Yes, sir. Dear old master." "Ha, ha! Dear old master! Won't do, Denton, I'm too old. Don't wait." "If it would please God to spare him for a score of years," said the old servant piously, as she left the room. "A bit harsh and a bit of a temper; but I know--I know."