here."

This was what Sabre had remembered; and he went straight from young
Perch to Twyning and recalled the conversation.

Twyning said, "Hullo, still interested in the fair Effie?"

"It's for young Perch over at Penny Green I'm asking. For his mother.
He's a young man"--Sabre permitted his eyes to rest for a moment on
Harold, seated at his desk--"and he feels he ought to join the army. He
wants the girl to be with his mother while he's away."

Twyning, noting the glance, changed his tone to one of much
friendliness. "Oh, I see, old man. No, Effie's got nothing yet. She was
over to our place to tea last Sunday."

"Good. I'll go and talk to old Bright. I'm keen about this."

"Yes, you seem to be, old man."

X

Mr. Bright received the suggestion with a manner that irritated Sabre.
While he was being told of the Perches he stared at Sabre with that
penetrating gaze of his as though in the proposal he searched for some
motive other than common friendliness. His first comment was, "They'll
want references, I suppose, sir?"

Sabre smiled. "Oh, scarcely, Mr. Bright. Not when they know who you
are."

The old man was standing before Sabre in the little cupboard bending his
head close towards him as though he would sense out, if he could not
see, some hidden motive behind all this. He contracted his great brows
as if to squeeze more penetration into his gaze. "Yes, but I'll want
references, Mr. Sabre. My girl's been well brought up. She's not going
here, there, nor anywhere."

Extraordinary the intensity of his searching, suspicious stare! Hard,
stupid old man, Sabre thought. "Dash it, does he suppose I've got
designs on the girl?" He would have returned an impatient answer had he
not been so anxious on the Perches' behalf. Instead he said pleasantly,
"Of course she's not, Mr. Bright. You may be sure I wouldn't suggest
this if I didn't know it was in every way desirable. Mrs. Perch is a
very old friend of mine and a very simple and kind old lady. There'll be
only herself for Effie to meet. And she'll make a daughter of her."

Nothing, of the penetration abated from the deep-set eyes, nor came any
expression of thanks from the stern, pursed mouth. "I'll take my girl
over and see for myself, Mr. Sabre."

Surly, stupid old man! However, poor young Perch! Poor old Mrs. Perch!
The very thing, if only it would come off.

XI

It came off. Sabre went up to Puncher's Farm on the evening of the day
Mr. Bright, "to