"Not now," said Clive huskily, as he followed his host up the garden to some seats. "You are right, sir, and it was an unwarrantable liberty. I am glad I did not take it." "So am I," said the Major drily. "But I thought it possible that you might come over this evening." "And I have come, sir, for I have grave news to communicate." "Great heavens!" cried the Major, starting from his garden-seat in a nook of the ferny rocks, "don't tell me, sir, that there is anything wrong about the mine." Clive was silent for a few moments as he gazed at the dimly seen, agitated face before him, and saw that the Major hurriedly wiped his brow. "Tell me, then," he said hoarsely, "the worst." "I have no worst to tell, sir," said Clive quietly. "You have been anxious, then, about the mine?" "Yes; I couldn't help it, my dear sir," said the Major nervously. "This sort of thing is new to me, and it means so much. But there is something wrong about it." "Nothing whatever, sir." "Thank God," muttered the Major. "So far from there being anything wrong, sir, I had a letter this evening announcing, on the basis of our success here, that in a few days the shareholders will receive an interim dividend of twenty per cent, which means, sir, one-fifth of your investment returned already." "My dear Reed, you amaze me. It is marvellous. But never mind that now. You said you came upon grave business." "Yes, sir," said Clive, after a pause, "very grave business to me." "Yes. Pray speak. You are in want of a little money?" "No, sir, I do not want money; I want time." "What is the matter, then? Your voice is quite changed." Clive was silent again for a few moments, and then, after glancing at the window, he said in a low voice-- "Major Gurdon, the time has come for me to know whether I am to visit here again." "Come here again? I do not quite understand you, sir. Pray speak out." "I will, sir," said Clive earnestly. "I love your child." "We all do, sir," said the Major coldly. "Who could help it?" "Yes, who could help it?" said Clive, in a tone of voice which told how deeply he was moved. "And now, as an honourable man, I ask you, sir, whether I am still to visit here, or my visits are to cease?" "Have you told Dinah what you have told me?" "Not a word, sir." "That's right!" "How could I without your leave?" "True! Well, Mr Reed, I will be frank with you. A short time back I had not thought of such a thing. I welcomed you here selfishly, as a visitor who would relieve some of the monotony of my existence. Then, sir, I began to like you, and then by slow degrees I began to see that I had either made a great error, or else fate was working, as she always does, silently. I have been much exercised in my mind as to what I should do, and ended by acting on the defensive, leaving the enemy to declare his plans." "And am I the enemy of your peace, sir?"