old woman," said Elsie.

"A dreadful person," said Tinker.

As Lady Beauleigh strode out of the gardens, she came full upon Sir
Tancred and Dorothy. He raised his hat, she tried to glare through
him, and glared at him.

"That's my step-mother," said Sir Tancred. "I wonder what's the matter
with her. She looks upset."

"Upset! Why, she looked furious--malignant!" said Dorothy.

Then they saw Tinker and Elsie coming towards them.

"I see," said Sir Tancred softly.

"Oh, if she's met my young charges!" said Dorothy, and she threw out
her hands.

"Have you been doing anything to your grandmother, Tinker?" cried Sir
Tancred.

"Well--I disowned her," said Tinker.

"Disowned her!"

"Yes; I had to," said Tinker with a faint regret. "She was rude, and
she was wearing a gown which would have stood up by itself if she had
got out of it--at Monte Carlo--in April--it's impossible!"

He shrugged his shoulders.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TINKER AND THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

Dorothy sat gazing over that charming gulf, charming alike for its
scenery and its oysters, the Gulf of Arcachon. She gazed on it without
seeing it; her beautiful face was clouded, and her brow was puckered in
a wondering perplexity.

Tinker sat on the ground near her, his chin on his knees, observing her
with a sympathetic understanding which would have disquieted her not a
little, had she not been too busy with her thoughts to notice it.

They were still and silent for a long while, until she sighed; then he
said, with unfeigned sadness, "I'm beginning to think he never will."

"Who never will what?" said Dorothy, awaking from her reflections, and
extremely disconcerted by the exactness with which Tinker's remark
echoed them.

"My father--ask you to marry him," said Tinker succinctly.

"Tinker!" cried Dorothy faintly, and she flushed a very fine red.

"It's all very well to say 'Tinker!' like that," he said, shaking his
head very wisely. "But it's much better to look at things straight,
don't you know? You often get a little forrarder that way."

"You are a dreadful little boy," said Dorothy with conviction.

"Yes, yes; I'm not blind," said Tinker patiently. "But the point is,
that my father is ever so much in love with you, and he'll never ask
you to marry him, because you're too rich. I'm sure I've given you
every chance," he added with a sigh.

"You have?" said Dorothy, gasping.

"Yes; I'm always seeing that no one make