w whom you mean by `sailor chap,'" said Hendon bitterly.

"Then I'll tell you," he said. "I mean Mark Heath, and I've got a
theory of my own about him."

"Curse you and your theories!" cried Hendon fiercely.

"Yes, and bless me and my money," said Poynter, laughingly.

"Stop! Where are you going?"

"This is my house, or as good as mine," said Poynter; "and I'm going up
to see my poor old father-in-law to be. I don't think he's properly
seen to, and I mean to have him off down to the seaside, to try and pull
him round. Coming?"

Hendon was so much staggered by his visitor's cool insolence that
Poynter was at the foot of the staircase before he thought to follow;
and then, feeling that this man had a hold upon him that he dared not
shake off, he followed him up-stairs, and into the sparely-furnished
front drawing-room in which the doctor had been lying all through his
illness.

He was seated where he could see the window, and his handsome face
looked vacant and strange as he turned his head to Elizabeth, who was
waiting on him in her mistress's absence.

"Is that Rich?" he said feebly.

"No, doctor, it's me, come for a bit of advice," cried Poynter. "Here,"
he said, turning to the maid, as he whisked his handkerchief round his
hat, "you be off."

Elizabeth left the room, wiping her eyes, and Poynter sat down beside
the doctor, and shook hands.

"Why, I ought to feel your pulse now, and not you mine," he said
boisterously.

"Glad to see you, Mr Poynter. Pretty well, thank you. Is my Rich
coming?"

"To be sure she is, old boy. Now I just want a cosy chat with you about
Rich."

"About Rich? Yes, yes."

"You remember how I proposed for her?"

The doctor looked at him blankly; and shook his head. "Is Rich coming,
Hendon?" he said.

"Yes, father; she is here," he cried; for there was the sound of wheels;
and running to the window, he smiled grimly as he saw who descended from
the cab.

"Might have stopped a little longer," grumbled Poynter to himself. "It
don't matter; the game's mine now. Damn!"

He started from his seat as he saw Rich enter the room, closely followed
by Mark Heath and Janet, to whom Hendon hurried with outstretched hands,
and after a little hesitation, two little dark well-mended gloves and
their contents were placed in his strong grasp.

"Dearest father," said Rich softly, as she hurried to the old man's
side.

"Ah," he said, taking her hands, and fondling them, whil