e passion that was rapidly rising in the veins of a man
full of life and will, surprised the man himself, excited in him a new
complacency and self-respect. For years he had said to himself that he
could only marry money. He remembered with a blush one or two rather
sordid steps in that direction--happily futile. But Lydia was penniless;
and he could make her rich. For his career was only beginning; and on
wealth, the wealth which is power, he was more than ever determined.

A turn in the road brought Threlfall into view. The new agent sat with
folded arms, gazing at the distant outline, and steadily pulling himself
together to meet the ordeal of the evening. It was by Melrose's own wish
he had drawn up a careful scheme of the alterations and improvements
which seemed to him imperatively necessary in the financial interests of
the estate; and he had added to it a statement--very cautious and
diplomatic--of the various public and private quarrels in which Melrose
was now concerned, with suggestions as to what could be done to
straighten them out. With regard to two or three of them litigation was
already going on; had, indeed, been going on interminably. Faversham was
certain that with a little good-will and a very moderate amount of money
he could settle the majority of them in a week.

So far Melrose had been fairly amenable--had given a curt assent, for
instance, to the conditions on which Faversham had proposed to relet two
of the vacant farms, and to one or two other changes. But Faversham
realized that he possessed no true knowledge of the old man's mind and
temperament. Exultant though he often felt in his new office, and the
preposterously large salary attached to it, he reminded himself
constantly that he trod on unsure ground. Once or twice he had been
conscious of a strange sense as of some couchant beast beside him ready
to spring; also of some curious weakening and disintegration in Melrose,
even since he had first known him. He seemed to be more incalculable,
less to be depended on. His memory was often faulty, and his irritability
hardly sane.

Faversham indeed was certain, from his own observation, that the mere
excitement of opening and exploring the huge collections he had
accumulated, during these twenty years, in the locked rooms of the house,
had imposed a sharp nervous strain on a man now past seventy, who for all
the latter part of his life had taken no exercise and smoked incessantly.

Supposin