for one. He is getting a new tenant
for Offendene."

"I don't mean that. Is Miss Harleth there, or is she not?" said
Grandcourt, in his former tone.

"Upon my soul, I can't tell," said Lush, rather sulkily. "She may have
left yesterday. I heard she had taken a situation as governess; she may
be gone to it for what I know. But if you wanted to see her no doubt
the mother would send for her back." This sneer slipped off his tongue
without strict intention.

"Send Hutchins to inquire whether she will be there tomorrow." Lush did
not move. Like many persons who have thought over beforehand what they
shall say in given cases, he was impelled by an unexpected irritation
to say some of those prearranged things before the cases were given.
Grandcourt, in fact, was likely to get into a scrape so tremendous that
it was impossible to let him take the first step toward it without
remonstrance. Lush retained enough caution to use a tone of rational
friendliness, still he felt his own value to his patron, and was
prepared to be daring.

"It would be as well for you to remember, Grandcourt, that you are
coming under closer fire now. There can be none of the ordinary
flirting done, which may mean everything or nothing. You must make up
your mind whether you wish to be accepted; and more than that, how you
would like being refused. Either one or the other. You can't be
philandering after her again for six weeks."

Grandcourt said nothing, but pressed the newspaper down on his knees
and began to light another cigar. Lush took this as a sign that he was
willing to listen, and was the more bent on using the opportunity; he
wanted, if possible, to find out which would be the more potent cause
of hesitation--probable acceptance or probable refusal.

"Everything has a more serious look now than it had before. There is
her family to be provided for. You could not let your wife's mother
live in beggary. It will be a confoundedly hampering affair. Marriage
will pin you down in a way you haven't been used to; and in point of
money you have not too much elbow-room. And after all, what will you
get by it? You are master over your estates, present or future, as far
as choosing your heir goes; it's a pity to go on encumbering them for a
mere whim, which you may repent of in a twelvemonth. I should be sorry
to see you making a mess of your life in that way. If there were
anything solid to be gained by the marriage, that would be a different
af