‘Your friend must be romantic,’ remarked Mrs. Belassis, taking up her work. ‘On the contrary,’ returned Tor, with a little significance, ‘I believe him to be a most practical man.’ ‘I am glad to hear it. It must have been an advantage to you to have such a friend.’ ‘Undoubtedly so. Perhaps when my uncle and I proceed to business, he will find that I too have learned to be practical.’ It certainly was unpremeditated, this interchange of hostilities; for though masked under a show of friendliness, Mrs. Belassis and Tor quite understood the antagonism which had already sprung up between them. Mrs. Belassis was a woman who liked to reign supreme, and to feel that her will dominated over all others. Anyone who declined to submit to her sway became at once suspected and disliked. And it hardly needed any demonstration to prove that Tor had not the smallest intention of yielding to her. She had found out so much before he had spoken half a dozen sentences. Matilda and Bertha were annoyed with their mother, and thought it very hard that their handsome cousin should be browbeaten like that before he had been half an hour in the house; but they stood too much in awe of Mrs. Belassis to remonstrate, and were greatly impressed by the fact that Tor seemed quite equal to hold his own, even against his redoubtable aunt. In fact Mrs. Belassis seemed for the moment to be silenced, and perhaps she was relieved from a passing feeling of embarrassment by the entrance of her husband and son. Tor rose and advanced to meet them. ‘I suppose, sir, that I shall have to introduce myself anew to you. In all probability I have changed more than you, I see, have done.’ Mr. Belassis seized his nephew’s hand and shook it with great show of cordiality. He was a man of heavy build and unprepossessing physiognomy. His features were somewhat coarse, but they lacked the open frankness which most of the type possess. There was a craftiness in his smile, and a stealthy cat-like expression was stamped upon his broad red face. His small brown eyes were placed too near together for symmetry, and were full of cunning and a certain lynx-like watchfulness which was not at all pleasant. To Tor, who was well used to reading men’s faces, he was simply repulsive. ‘Very good, Uncle Belassis,’ he said to himself. ‘I think I see what kind of a customer you will prove. You are quite as nasty as I expected; but not so clever—not half so clever as your wife. So much the better for me.’ Tor paid small heed to the oily words of welcome which were being poured upon him. He was mentally taking the measure of the man before him, and if Mr. Belassis had understood the cause of the smile which passed across the bronzed face, he might have felt less at ease than before. ‘Well, Phil,’ said the younger man, holding out his hand, ‘I suppose we neither of us retain a vivid recollection of the other. However, we can soon make up for lost time. Glad to see you, old fellow!’