"You are too wise and too good to wish to injure my son's prospects for life, and so we have decided that it will be better for your father to leave the place, and take you right away, where all this little trouble will soon be forgotten." "And," interposed the keeper, "the missus has given me this, my dear--a cheque for fifty pounds, to pay all our expenses. What shall I do with it, my dear?" "Burn it, father," said Judith, slowly. "It is to buy us off." "Hah!" said the keeper, with a smile full of satisfaction, "that's well said;" and he placed the end of the cheque to the glowing ashes. It burst into flame and he held it till it was nearly burned away, tossing the scrap he had held into the fire. "Hayle, you must be mad!" cried Mrs Rolph, astonishment having at first closed her lips. "Nay, ma'am, we're not mad, either of us," said the keeper, gravely. "There are some things money can buy, and some things it can't, ma'am. What you want is one of the things it can't buy. Judith and I are going away from the cottage--right away, ma'am. I'm only a keeper, but there's a bit of independence in me; and as for my girl here, whom you made a lady, she's going to act like what you have made her. She owns to me, in her looks if not in words, that she loves young master, and she's too proud to come to you and be his wife, till you come to her, and beg her to. Am I right, Judith?" The girl gave him a quick look, and then drew herself up, and clung to him. "Yes, father," she said, in a whisper which caused her intense suffering "you are right." "There, ma'am, are you satisfied?" "No," said Mrs Rolph in a husky voice, "I am not satisfied, but it cannot be. My son's welfare is at stake." She rose, and tried to speak again, but unable to utter another word, she left the cottage, father and daughter watching her till she disappeared among the dark aisles of the firs. Volume 1, Chapter VIII. MARS IN THE ASCENDANT. "Better get it over," said Captain Rolph, the next day, as he indulged himself in what he called a short "spin" down the lane by the side of The Warren, and in the direction of the Alleynes' home, which stood up, grim and bleak, out of the sandy desert land. "What with the old man, and the major, and the mater, and Madge, and--oh, hang it all! I'm not going to stand any humbug from Judy, and so I tell her. There, I'll go and get it over at once." He stopped running, braced himself up, and marched in regular military fashion, back to The Warren, to see Marjorie seated at one of the front windows, ready to give him a smile in response to his short nod. The next moment he stopped short, gazing sharply down the avenue at the broad, bent back of the keeper, who, with head down, was striding away toward the gate. "What's he been here for?--to see me?"