"Bless my soul, Miss Torrington!... by the honour of a knight, I never saw you; nor do I think I should have seen a regiment of young ladies, though they had been all as handsome as yourself, if they had happened to come with my poor dear Helen. It was very good of you to walk over with her, poor little thing!... Your fortune is quite safe and independent, my dear, isn't it? Nobody's doing a foolish thing can involve you in any way, can it?" "Not unless the foolish thing happened to be done by myself, Sir Gilbert." "That's a great blessing, my dear,--a very great blessing!... And you'll be kind to our two poor girls, won't you, my dear?" "I have more need that they should be kind to me--and so they are,--and we are all very kind to one another; and if you will be but very kind too, and come and see us all as you used to do, we shall be very happy again in time." "Stuff and nonsense, child!... You may come here, I tell you, and see me as much as you like, under my own roof,--because I know who that belongs to, and all about it; but I promise you that you will never see me going to houses that don't belong to their right owner,--it would not suit me in the least--quite out of my way; I should be making some confounded blunder, and talking to poor Charles about his estate and his property:--poor fellow! and he not worth sixpence in the world." During all this time Helen had not spoken a word. They had now nearly reached the house; and drawing her arm away, she held out her hand to Sir Gilbert, and said in a very humble and beseeching tone, "Sir Gilbert!... may I speak to you alone for a few minutes?" "Speak to me, child?--what about? Is it about a sweet-heart? Is it about wanting pocket-money, my poor child?--I'm executor to your father's will, you know, Helen; and if you were starving in a ditch, and Fanny in another, and poor Charles begging his bread on the high road, I have not the power of giving either of ye a shilling of his property, though he has left above fourteen thousand a year!" Sir Gilbert was now lashing himself into a rage that it was evident would render the object of Helen's visit abortive if she attempted to bring it forward now. She exchanged a glance with Rosalind, who shook her head, and the next moment contrived to whisper in her ear, "Wait till after breakfast." Sir Gilbert was now striding up the steps to the hall-door: the two girls silently followed him, and were probably neither of them sorry to see Colonel Harrington coming forward to meet them.