"Pooh! we could read it. I say we, as I am so near a relative; but mark my words, Gertie, he'll never come back. There, don't cry. You never knew him, and don't want to know him I'll be sworn. Gertie, it's as good as certain that he is dead, for the old man had not heard from him for quite a year, I know, and out there a man's life isn't worth much. Come, let's see if you and I can't have a little sensible talk." Gertrude glanced uneasily at the door, and wondered whether Mrs Denton was near. Then she heard a sigh come from beneath the table, and felt comforted, for there was help at hand. Saul laughed as he interpreted her looks rightly. "What a silly little bird it is," he said banteringly, "pretending to be afraid of me on purpose to lead me on. There, I apologise for being so rough that day. I ought to have approached you more gently, but it is your fault--you are so pretty and enticing. Why, what a terrible look!" "I have no right to forbid you this house, Mr Harrington," said Gertrude coldly, "but I must beg of you not to refer to that terrible day again. I cannot bear it." "Stuff!" "I cannot keep back the feeling that your presence shortened my poor uncle's life." "You're a little goose, Gertie," said Saul contemptuously. "The old man threw himself into a passion about nothing, and he paid the penalty." Gertrude shook her head as she took up some work so as to avoid looking at the man lolling before her in an easy-chair. "Why, you little sceptic," cried Saul laughingly. "It was a foregone conclusion that he would pop off some day in a fit of temper--because there were no coals in the scuttle, or his beef-tea was too hot. I happened to be there, and you blame me. That's all." "Pray say no more." "All light, I will not. Always ready to obey you, Gertie, because I want to show you that I really love you very dearly." Gertrude gave a hurried glance at the door, remembered the dog, and grew calm. "I'm not going to frighten you, Gertie," continued Saul, "but I want for us to understand our position. Never mind what the executors or any one else says, George Harrington is not coming back. He's dead or he would have been here." "He has not had time yet. He was in the West--Far West, last time my uncle heard." "I don't care if he was in the much farther West. Letters would have reached him, and he would have known that his grandfather was dead, and if he had known it, do you think the man is living who would not have rushed over to secure this property?" Gertrude felt her heart sink. Not many minutes before she had felt a dread of meeting George Harrington; now that there was a possibility of Saul's words being true, a curious feeling of sorrow attacked her, and she felt that she would give anything for the man, whose praises the old man had sung, to take her by the hand.