ay. He was a feeble old man, and
he was rapidly growing blind. Who would read for him, and chat with him,
and help to while away the long and tedious hours? He could not spend
all his time eating and sleeping. What should he do now with all the
other hours of the long day and night? He felt pleased with Frances--he
owned she was a good girl; but at the same time he was cross with her;
she ought to have thought of some other way of delivering him. She was a
clever woman--he owned she was a clever woman; but she ought not to
have effected his salvation by deserting him.

The squire mumbled and muttered to himself. He rose from his arm-chair
and walked to the window; he went out and paced up and down the terrace;
he came in again. Was there ever such a long and tiresome morning? He
yawned; he did not know what to do with himself.

A little after noon the door of the south parlor was quickly opened and
Arnold came in.

"I have just come to say good-bye, sir."

The squire started in genuine amazement. He did not love Arnold, but
after two hours of solitude he was glad to hear any human voice. It
never occurred to him, too, that any one should feel Frances such a
necessity as to alter plans on her account.

"You are going away?" he repeated. "You told me yesterday you would stay
here for at least another week or ten days."

"Exactly, but I have changed my mind," said Arnold. "I came here for an
object--my object has failed. Good-bye."

"But now, really--" the squire strove to retain the young man's hand in
his clasp. "You don't seriously mean to tell me that you are leaving a
nice place like the Firs in this fine summer weather because Frances has
refused you."

"I am going away on that account," replied Arnold, stiffly. "Good-bye."

"You astonish me--you quite take my breath away. Frances couldn't accept
you, you know. She had me to see after. I spoke to you yesterday about
her, and I suggested that you should take Fluff instead. A dear little
thing, Fluff. Young, and with money; who would compare the two?"

"Who would compare the two?" echoed Arnold. "I repeat, squire, that I
must now wish you good-bye, and I distinctly refuse to discuss the
subject of my marriage any further."

Arnold's hand scarcely touched Squire Kane's. He left the south parlor,
and his footsteps died away in the distance.

Once more there was silence and solitude. The sky grew darker, the
atmosphere hotter and denser--a growl of thunder w