Gertrude started. "And he seems to have found a congenial spirit in that Mr Saul Harrington." Gertrude shook her head sadly. "I'm a matter-of-fact woman, my dear, and I speak out sometimes, and I'm going to speak out now. I hate Mr Saul Harrington, and you'd better take a few lessons from me, and hate him too." Gertrude looked at her in a bewildered way. "Oh, come, that won't do; you are going to marry Mr George?" "Yes, Mrs Hampton." "And you are going to devote yourself to making him a good young man?" "Yes." "Then you must put your hand to the plough with a will; and the first thing to do is to wean him away from Saul Harrington." "But how?" "Woman's wit, my dear. Make him love you, and think there's no happiness to be found anywhere in the world except by your side." A rosy flush came into Gertrude's cheeks, but it faded away, and left them pale, while the sad look of perplexity that was growing there became more pronounced. "Do you understand?" "Yes, Mrs Hampton," said Gertrude, with a sigh. "That's what I did with Mr Hampton, and I don't look the sort of woman, do I?" "Pray don't ask me such questions. But surely Mr Hampton was never at all--" "Wild, my dear? No, but he was growing too fond of his whist, and I--" "Yes, Mrs Hampton; you--" "Well, my dear," said the old lady, kissing her affectionately, "I played a trump card. There, I'm going for my walk now. Will you come?" "Not to-day. Mrs Denton here wants to see me." "Yes, if you please, Miss Gertrude," said the old woman, who had tapped at the door and entered. "Well, I'll go and get on my things, and if you have done when I've dressed, I'll wait for you. You ought to have your walk." "Yes, Denton?" said Gertrude, as soon as they were alone. "I've come to ask you, my dear, if I may speak out." "Of course." "Then I will, for I've had charge of you ever since you were such a little dot. Miss Gertrude, my dear, it won't do." "Denton?" "I'm seeing too much, my dear, and if poor master was alive he'd say what I say, `It won't do.'" "What do you mean?" cried Gertrude, with her heart beating wildly. "Master George is no husband for you, my dear, no more than Mr Saul is. Drink, and smoke, and cards, and bets. No, no, no, my dear, darling child; never mind the money, and the purple, and the fine linen. You've got your hundred a year, and I've got my annuity, as shall be yours, so let's go and take a cottage and live together; for if I stay here much longer, and see what's going on, it will break my heart." And in proof of her earnestness the old lady sank upon her knees and covered her face with her apron, sobbing violently in spite of comforting words, till there was the rustle of silk upon the stairs, when she rose from her knees, kissed Gertrude quickly, and hurried out of the room. Gertrude did not go for a walk, but sat alone thinking about her future life, and the clouds grew darker and seemed to close her in. CHAPTER ELEVEN.