"Ah well, natural enough, my dear, when you don't know what he's like, and he's to be your husband. I hope he'll turn out all poor master said about him, and make you very happy, my dear. I remember well when his poor father and mother brought him here before they sailed for America. Sad, restless gentleman, his poor father, wanting to go to foreign countries, to find gold when master used to tell him that there was more gold to be dug out of people's pockets than ever he'd find out there. Don't you think, my dear, that we might begin putting flowers now in young master's room?" "Yes, Denton, do," cried Gertrude quickly. "He may not come for days yet, but you could renew them." "I mean for you to put them, my dear." "I?" "Yes. There, don't blush, my pretty," said the old woman, smiling affectionately. "He's to be your husband, you know, and I can see what you mean; you don't want him to think you forward and pressing for it. Quite right, my child, but this is a particular case as we may say." There was a double-knock and a sharp ring, and Bruno gave token of his presence by starting out from under the table and uttering a fierce bay. "Down, Bruno, down!" cried Gertrude, colouring deeply and then turning pale. "That's a strange knock, Miss Gertrude. Perhaps it's Mr George." They stood listening in the drawing-room; the old woman, in her white crape cap, looking flushed and excited, and Gertrude, in her unrelieved black dress, white--even sallow--with excitement. "What will he think of poor little insignificant me?" she said to herself; and her heart beat more and more heavily as steps were heard in the hall; then their dull sound on the carpet, the door handle rattled, and Saul Harrington marched in unannounced. "Ah, Gertie," he cried with boisterous familiarity. "How do, Denton? Here, keep that dog back or I shall kill him." "Lie down, Bruno?" said Gertrude. "Send him out of the room." "He will be quite quiet now," replied Gertrude, who longed to tell the old housekeeper to stop in the room, but dared not make so great a confession of her dread of the visitor. "Oh, very well," said Saul carelessly. "As long as he does not try to eat me, I don't mind. Hah! gone," he continued with a satisfied smile; "now we can have a chat." "You wished to speak to me, Mr Harrington?" said Gertrude, trying hard not to show her agitation. "Only dropped in to see how you were, and to ask the news. Well, is my beloved relative on his way yet? When do you expect him?" "We have not heard from Mr George Harrington yet." "You will open his letter, I suppose, when it comes for the old man?" "I shall pass it on to the executors."