or me
to enter into details with the parties chiefly interested in that
affair. It depends pretty much on what you are able to tell me,
whether I can give you the time you mention in your last. You will
consult your own interests best by being quite square," and so on.

The expression which Captain Oliphant mentally applied to the writer as
he re-read this pleasant passage was not wholly flattering, and his
countenance, as I have said, bore traces of considerable pain. However,
after a little meditation it cleared somewhat, and he wrote:--

"It seems to me a pity you should take up a position which can only
end in trouble all round. You know how things stand, and how
impossible it is to hasten matters. At the present moment there seems
every probability of my being able to discharge all my accounts--yours
among them--considerably earlier than the time first mentioned. It is
worth your while, under the circumstances, reconsidering what, you
must allow me to say, is a preposterous claim for interest. Of
course, if you charge me for the full term, I have very little
inducement to settle up sooner. Turn it over, like a sensible man,
and believe me, meanwhile,

"Yours truly,

"E.O.

"_P.S_.--I enclose a copy of the clauses of the will most likely to
interest you. I am sorry to say my ward is in very bad--I might say
seriously bad--health. He has a constitutional complaint, which, I
greatly fear, will make this winter a most anxious time to us all."

After this, Captain Oliphant soothed himself down with a cigarette, and
spent a little time in admiring contemplation of an excellent portrait
of Mrs Ingleton on the wall. Finally, he went cheerfully to bed.

CHAPTER SIX.

A CASE OF EVICTION.

A week passed and Mr Armstrong did not return. By the end of that time
Miss Rosalind Oliphant, for better or worse, had settled down into her
new quarters, and made herself as much at home as a fair Bohemian can do
anywhere. She still resented the fate which brought her to Maxfield at
all, and annoyed her father constantly by casting their dependence on
the hospitality of the place in his teeth.

"I wish you had some business, father," said she, "so that we could pay
our way. I don't suppose my pictures will ever sell, but every penny I
earn shall go to Roger. Couldn't we go and live in the lodge, somewhere
where we can--"

"Rosalind," said her father, "you vex me by t