ove!'

'And now,' went on Nuttie, in spite of the explosion, 'he would hardly
have ventured to go on with it but for this--I mean,' as her father
gave a little laugh of his unpleasant sort, 'he said it would be the
greatest possible relief, and make it all right for the property to go
to the heir male.'

'Hein! You think so, do you? See how it will be when I come to talk
to him! A shrewd fellow like that who got out of the Micklethwayte
concern just in time. Catch him giving up a place like that, though he
may humbug you.'

'Then you will see him, father?'

'If you turn him in on me, I can't help it. Bless me! umbrellas
everywhere! And here you mean to turn me over to the mercies of that
solemn idiot, Edsall. I should have been better off with poor
Gregorio.'

'No, father; Mr. Dutton would not take me from you. We would both try
all we could to make you comfortable.'

'Convert the old reprobate? Is that his dodge?'

'Don't, father,' for the sneering tone returned.

'Come now,' he added in a much more fatherly manner, for her voice had
struck him. 'You don't mean that a well-looking girl like you, who
could have her pick of all the swells in town, can really be smitten
with a priggish old retired umbrella-monger like that. Why, he might
be your father.'

'He has been getting younger ever since I knew him,' said Nuttie.

'Well. He plays as good a game of whist as any man in England,'
muttered Mr. Egremont, leaving his daughter in actual doubt whether he
meant this as a recommendation, or as expressing a distrust of him, as
one likely to play his cards to the best advantage. She had to remain
in doubt, for they overtook Clarence Fane, who came and spoke to them
in a very friendly and solicitous manner, and showed himself willing to
accept a lift in the carriage. Mr. Egremont, willing to escape from
perplexities as well as to endeavour to drive away if possible the
oppression of his grief, invited him in, and he had some gossip to
impart, which at first seemed to amuse the hearer after this time of
seclusion, but the sick and sore heart soon wearied of it, and long
before the drive was over, Mr. Egremont was as much bored as his
daughter had been from the first.

When Mr. Fane got out, he paused a moment to hold Ursula's hand in a
tender manner, while he told her that he had not ventured to intrude
(he had left a card of inquiry every day), but that if ever he could be
of the least use in amusin