A diversion was made at this moment by the entrance of the host, a tall, slightly-made man, dark and solemn--a typical Spaniard both in complexion and bearing. To-night he was in a genial mood, and unbent more than usual. Nevertheless, although he shook hands with Neil, he was decidedly colder to him than to the rest of his guests. Indeed, it was apparent that Neil was not a favourite. "A merry Christmas to all," Mr. Cass said, bowing. "Perhaps I am rather premature; still, it is better to be early than late." "So long as you adopt that plan with your presents, papa, I shall not quarrel with you." "You see what a bold daughter I have," he remarked to Heron. "How would you like to be her father?" "Not at all, not at all," replied the young man with a very significant glance in the direction of Ruth--a glance which made Neil's blood boil. "Ha, ha!" cackled Marshall. "We know all about that Heron," and he slapped him on the back. "But come! Dinner--dinner!" And, indeed, at that moment dinner was announced. Mr. Cass gave his arm to his sister, and to his delight Geoffrey found himself seated beside Ruth; poor Neil had Mrs. Marshall for his companion. Neither of the two relished their juxtaposition. Jennie and Don Juan-in-his-Dotage were happy in the congenial company of each other, and kept the table merry. The conversation only flickered feebly with Mr. Marshall's aimless merriment. Neil, annoyed by the coldness of his reception, was considering the advisability of a return to town the next day; he thought he recognised Mrs. Marshall's hand in the chilly reception of Mr. Cass. For hitherto the merchant had treated him with uniform kindness, and he was puzzled by this new departure. When the ladies had retired to the winter garden Mr. Cass was more amiable to his guest, the violinist. And the young man, anxious to please, did his best to make himself agreeable. Heron and Marshall were discussing county affairs; so the merchant and young Webster had a quiet talk. "I am making a good deal of money now," Neil said. He was recounting his artistic triumphs. "In a few years I shall be a wealthy man." "You must let me invest your capital for you. You artistic folks know little about business." "I should be more than grateful if you would. I daresay, in time, there will be enough for me to marry on." Mr. Cass looked keenly at the speaker from under his thick black brows. "Are you thinking of marrying?" he asked, carelessly. Then, without waiting for an answer: "I would not if I were you." "Why not? I am young, strong----" "And nervous," finished his host abruptly. "I have peculiar views about marriage, and I do not think you are fitted for it. Take my advice, and keep single. Come," he started to his feet before the other could reply, "let us join the ladies."