"I shall be very happy to let them, I'm sure," stammered the poor woman; and, after the settlement of a few preliminaries, it was arranged that the new-comer's luggage should be fetched from the hotel, and he took possession at once, after the old gentleman had suggested that a month in advance should be paid for, which was done. CHAPTER SEVEN. UNCLE PAUL UTTERS WARNINGS. "You see, you are quite a stranger," said the old gentleman, in a kind of gruff apology; "and I'm obliged to look after that poor woman's interests. Now, then," he continued, leading the way into the garden, "light up and come into the look-out, boy; I want to talk to you." Geoffrey followed him, and as soon as they were seated they smoked and stared at each other in silence for a time, the young man rather enjoying his elder's keen scrutiny. "Pleasant woman, my sister-in-law," said Mr Paul, at last. "Yes; she seems homely and nice. Takes pride in her house." "Humph! Yes." "Widow, of course?" "Yes: didn't you see she was?" "Yes." "Then why did you ask?" "For confirmation. Is yours a bad cigar?" "No. Why?" "Because it don't seem to act as a sedative. A good one always makes me calm and agreeable." "Then you think I am disagreeable?" said the old man, sharply. "Not to put too fine a point upon it--yes; very." "I always am," said the old gentleman, with a harsh laugh. "What do you think of my niece?" "Very pretty," said Geoffrey, quietly. "Oh! You think so?" "Yes. Don't you?" "Humph! Yes. But, look here, young man, you are from London, are you not?" "Yes." "Then none of your town manners, please. No putting silly notions in that girl's head. It's full enough already." "Who? I? Put silly notions in her head?" said Geoffrey, showing his white teeth as he removed his cigar from his lips and exhaled a great cloud of smoke. "Don't be afraid, old gentleman. I'm a man without a heart. Besides which, I'm engaged." "More fool you. Bah! Look at me." "I have looked at you," said Geoffrey, coolly; "I know you by heart already." "Bah!" ejaculated the old gentleman, testily. "Engaged--married-- insanity! A young man madly makes up his mind to keep a woman and a lot of children in bread and butter, like poor Rumsey, our doctor. Thinks it is going to be a pleasant burthen, and dreams on till he wakes--poor devil!" "You don't approve, then, of matrimony?" "Approve? No, I don't. I have seen too much of it in others. Young half-brother of mine marries that woman there; keeps poor in consequence; dies poor, leaving her and her child poor--paupers both of 'em." "Hah! yes," said Geoffrey; "there are more poor than rich in the world." "Their own fault. Don't you make a poor man of yourself." "Don't mean to," said Geoffrey, quietly. "My mistress--my wife, if you like--is Science. Do you like bad smells?" "Do I like _what_?"