"Yes, that we shall, if you forget your place," said the butler, pitifully, as he gave his pillow a punch. "Forget my place, indeed!" retorted his wife; "have I been plotting and planning all these years for nothing? Have I brought matters to this pitch to be treated in this way, to be turned upon by an ungrateful boy, with his rough, sea-going ways? This isn't the quarter-deck of a ship-- do you hear what I say?--this isn't the quarter-deck of a ship." "No, my dear, of course it isn't," said the butler, mildly--"it's our bedroom," he added to himself. "But I'll bring him to himself in the morning, see if I don't," she said, folding her arms, and speaking fiercely. "I'll soon let him know who I am--an overbearing, obstinate, mad--are you asleep, Lloyd?" "No, my dear, I'm listening." "Now, look here; I have my plans about Polly." "Yes, dear." "And, mind this, if that fellow Humphrey attempts to approach her again--" "Poor Humphrey!" sighed the butler. "Ah!" exclaimed his wife, "what was I about to marry such a milksop? Did you know that he was making up to her?" "I thought he cared for the girl, my dear." "You fool! you idiot, Lloyd! and not to tell me. Have you no brains at all?" "I'm afraid not much, my dear," said the butler, pitifully: "what little I had has been pretty well muddled with trouble, and upset, and dread, and one thing and another." "Lloyd!" exclaimed the housekeeper, "if ever I hear you speak again like that--" She did not finish her sentence, but her eyes flashed as she looked full in his, holding the candle over him the while. "Now, look here," she said, more temperately. "I shall have a talk with my gentleman in the morning." "What, poor Humphrey?" "Poor Humphrey, no. But mind this--he's not to come near Polly." "But you don't think--" "Never mind what I think, you mind what I say, and leave me to bring things round. If she don't know what's good for her, I do; and I shall have my way." The butler sighed. "Now, look here, I shall have some words of a sort with my fine gentleman in the morning." "No, no, Martha, don't--pray don't; let things be now; we can't alter them." "Can't we?" said Mrs Lloyd, viciously--"I'll see about that." "But, Martha, dear, I'm fifteen years older than you, and if anything happened it would break my heart--there!" he exclaimed, vehemently. "I'd sooner go down to Trevass Rocks, and jump off into the sea, and end it all, than that anything should happen to us now--after all these years." Mrs Lloyd did not speak for a few minutes. Then, hearing a voice downstairs, she opened the door gently, and listened, to make out that it was only laughter from the smoking-room, and she closed the door once more. "If ever there was a coward, Lloyd, you are one," she said, with a bitter sneer. "Yes," said the butler. "I suppose I am, for I can't bear the idea of anything happening now. Then people say we're unnatural to poor Humphrey."