The little old lady was extremely gracious to me, and actually asked me to afternoon tea in her tin house, an unprecedented favour, considering her avaricious nature. Gertrude privately informed me that her aunt did not again refer to the hidden money, and evidently was quite ready to wait until it was found. If it was, and she did not receive her half, I had no doubt that she would show her teeth, but meanwhile she was bland and smiling and agreeable. I disliked her myself, as I knew she was holding a whip over Gertrude. Still, so long as she did not use it, I had no cause to complain. Gertrude's position--owing to circumstances over which she had no control--was an extremely delicate one, and Miss Destiny, as a possible scandalmaker, had to be propitiated. I was therefore as amiable to her as she was to me, but I fancy she hated me under her feigned mask of friendship, as several times I caught sly glances revealing the smouldering fires of her suppressed feelings. I had, through those damp months, a companion at the Robin Redbreast in the small person of Dicky Weston. True to his intention, he had leased a few acres of waste land outside the village and, having enclosed it with a high tin fence, had erected sheds for his three or four workmen--in the construction of his airship he did not retain more--and for the housing of the vessel (as I presume it may be called). The various parts were brought from London, and Weston spent his days in putting them together. Meanwhile he lived along with me at the inn, and we had a common table. I rather liked Weston, although he was confoundedly absent-minded. He told me--for we grew confidential--that he had proposed to Mabel and that she had refused him. "I believe she's in love with that Marr fellow," said Weston savagely. "She is in love with you, my dear chap," I assured him; "anyone but a half-blinded inventor could see that." "Then why didn't she accept me?" "Do you expect a girl to drop into your mouth like a ripe apple, just because between the intervals of what you regard as more important business you propose to her. Women need to be wooed in order to be won, Weston, and Lady Mabel--very rightly, declined to be considered a side issue of your life interest." "But I love her no end, Vance." "Pooh! You would sacrifice her and a dozen like her to your Moloch of an airship," I said lightly. "I wouldn't," he insisted; "but Mabel couldn't expect me to throw over everything to dance at her heels." "She could expect it, and she did expect it. Weston, you don't know the sex." "I know Mabel, and I love Mabel," he muttered, "but since she won't have me there is no more to be said. I expect to hear she has married Marr." "You expect wrongly then," said I with a shrug; "Marr has gone to America for an indefinite period, and is out of the running." "Then there's a chance for me," he said, his dark face lightening up. "If you play your cards properly."