“Only fancy being engaged on Christmas Eve, Julia!” exclaimed Charles. “How romantic! It is like the beginning of a story-book.” * * * * * From the day of Benwell’s arrival, Wynne Clarge had roamed about the house and grounds, snarling at every one and everything. He had treated Julia very rudely, and one day suddenly asked her-- “What is that fellow dangling about after you for? I will not have it, Julia.” “But, Wynne,” his fair cousin replied, “it can surely be no business of yours if he wishes to pay me attention; he is my cousin, and who knows but he may make me a proposal before he leaves Minehead?” All this was said coquettishly, but looking up at Wynne she was frightened at the look of hatred she perceived on his face. [Illustration: “His sword point, which was advanced towards the spectators, was seen to be covered with blood.”--_p. 215._] “A proposal he _may_ make, but your husband he shall never be while I wear this by my side,” and he touched the hilt of his rapier significantly, as he strode off down the garden path. From that day he sought to quarrel with young Benwell, and his relations with Mr. Simmonds became so strained, that the old gentleman grew alarmed at his manner, and quietly but firmly forbade him the house. “It is not your house or lands I want,” exclaimed the irate Wynne; “but hark ye, old man, Julia shall be my wife and no other’s; willy-nilly she _shall_ be mine. I have waited for years, and will not be baulked by this sallow-faced American loon! Let him have his holiday, and go as he came, and leave Julia in my hands, or--I will know the reason why!” * * * * * It was Christmas Eve, and Squire Simmonds had invited a few of the neighbouring gentry to spend the evening sociably together under his roof. Wynne had been invited with the rest, for at Christmastide the squire could not be at variance with any man; but in the evening no Wynne appeared. This gave rise to some little comments among the guests, who good-naturedly twitted pretty Julia with having two strings to her bow. She blushed and bore it, only looking anxiously now and again at the face of the old clock at the end of the dining-room, for it was past the hour when Charley had promised he would return; for he had gone over to Dulverton in the morning to fetch the required documents. He had promised to be back by six o’clock, and it was now eight, and both Julia and her father began to exchange glances of alarm. At nine o’clock the guests also became anxious, and Mr. Simmonds tried to persuade both himself and those present that all was right.