"No; he has not gone with Saul Harrington, but on some expedition of his own. Well, I can do nothing in that direction--I wish I could; but the money is his, and he has a right to spend it as he pleases. A pity, though--a pity. Eh?" "Coffee, sir." "Oh, I beg your pardon, Denton. Yes; thank you." The old man helped himself to sugar and milk, before taking the cup from the tray, when he found the housekeeper's eyes fixed upon him pleadingly. "Yes, Denton; you wanted to say something." "Oh, yes, sir--so much. You knew master so well and he trusted in you." "Not so much as I could have wished, Denton, but what is it?" "Can't you do something, sir?" "Something, Denton?" "Something to persuade my poor dear young mistress; to alter her mind. There, sir," cried the old woman, changing her tone from one of pleading to one of anger and dislike, "I'd sooner see the poor child in her grave than Master George's wife." The old lawyer looked at her gravely for a few moments, and was about to speak out as he felt, but directly after, with the cultivated caution of his profession, he said slowly: "We must see, Mrs Denton--we must see." Then, swallowing his coffee at a draught, he set down the cup, and placing his hands behind him, as if to preserve his balance, he left the room. Denton stood looking after him till he was gone, and then turned, and gazed up at the portrait. "Oh, master," she half sobbed, "you ought to have known better--you ought to have known better. She'll marry him unless something is done, and all to please you." Tea was on the way soon after, and, forgetful of the coffee he had just swallowed, the old lawyer took a cup, and wandered all over the room with it, pausing thoughtfully to stir it in different corners, his brain busy the while. At last he laid the spoon in the saucer, and was raising the cup to sip the half-cold contents, when there was a sharp ring at the great gate-bell. "A letter," said Mrs Hampton sharply. "Or a telegram," said the old lawyer. Then there was a pause, in the midst of which the iron gate was heard to clang, and footsteps sounded on the gravel. "A visitor--so late!" said Gertrude in a trembling voice. "George Harrington come back," said the old lawyer shortly. His words had a strange effect upon Gertrude, who sank back in her seat, and half closed her eyes, while a faint shudder ran through her. "Not much like a lover," muttered Mrs Hampton, watching her in a sidelong way, as her eyes closed more and more, and a long-drawn sigh escaped her breast. Meanwhile, the front door was heard to close, and there were steps in the hall, as if some one was being shown into the study. "It is not Mr Harrington," said Gertrude, starting up; and, as the remembrance of the old housekeeper's ominous declarations came back, she caught at Mrs Hampton's outstretched hand. "Be calm, my dear."