him eagerly, saw nothing, felt nothing, was grateful
for his goodness to the child. Well, well! He had died in the following
spring. And Winton found that he had been made Gyp's guardian and
trustee. Since his wife's death, the squire had muddled his affairs, his
estate was heavily mortgaged; but Winton accepted the position with an
almost savage satisfaction, and, from that moment, schemed deeply to get
Gyp all to himself. The Mount Street house was sold; the Lincolnshire
place let. She and Nurse Betty were installed at his own hunting-box,
Mildenham. In this effort to get her away from all the squire's
relations, he did not scruple to employ to the utmost the power he
undoubtedly had of making people feel him unapproachable. He was never
impolite to any of them; he simply froze them out. Having plenty of
money himself, his motives could not be called in question. In one year
he had isolated her from all except stout Betty. He had no qualms, for
Gyp was no more happy away from him than he from her. He had but one bad
half-hour. It came when he had at last decided that she should be called
by his name, if not legally at least by custom, round Mildenham. It was
to Markey he had given the order that Gyp was to be little Miss Winton
for the future. When he came in from hunting that day, Betty was waiting
in his study. She stood in the centre of the emptiest part of that
rather dingy room, as far as possible away from any good or chattel. How
long she had been standing there, heaven only knew; but her round, rosy
face was confused between awe and resolution, and she had made a sad
mess of her white apron. Her blue eyes met Winton's with a sort of
desperation.

"About what Markey told me, sir. My old master wouldn't have liked it,
sir."

Touched on the raw by this reminder that before the world he had been
nothing to the loved one, that before the world the squire, who had been
nothing to her, had been everything, Winton said icily:

"Indeed! You will be good enough to comply with my wish, all the same."

The stout woman's face grew very red. She burst out, breathless:

"Yes, sir; but I've seen what I've seen. I never said anything, but I've
got eyes. If Miss Gyp's to take your name, sir, then tongues'll wag, and
my dear, dead mistress--"

But at the look on his face she stopped, with her mouth open.

"You will be kind enough to keep your thoughts to yourself. If any word
or deed of yours gives the slightest excuse fo