it even more slowly than he had done the first cup. When it was finished, Mrs. Lethbridge said, "There is no more in the pot."
"That is a pity," said Jeremiah, "because we are enjoying ourselves so."
"I propose," said Mrs. Lethbridge, "that we go into the open air. It is a most lovely evening."
They all rose, glad of the escape. Jeremiah pushed himself between Fred Cornwall and Phœbe, and walked by her side down the stairs. When they were in the open he said to her, "You have forgotten your bouquet. I will go and bring it to you. Shall I?"
"If you please," she answered, faintly. She could make no other reply.
His mother met him in the passage. "Miser Farebrother wishes to see you, Jeremiah. You can join Miss Phœbe afterward."
"All right," said Jeremiah; "I will. Look here, mother. Is that Cornwall fellow sticking up to Phœbe?"
"That is for you to find out, Jeremiah. If you are my son you are not to be easily beaten."
"Easily beaten!" he echoed, with malignant emphasis. "When my back's up, I generally let people know it. Did you notice how they behaved to me at the tea-table?"
"You paid them out for it, Jeremiah," said Mrs. Pamflett, exultingly. "I am proud of you."
"You shall have more reason by-and-by. Paid them out for it! Why, they didn't have a word to say for themselves! I just looked at them, and shut them up! As for Phœbe, let her look out; that's all I say – let her look out! Did you ever see a cat play with a mouse?"
"Often, Jeremiah."
"Well, let her look out for herself. That's all I've got to say."
CHAPTER II
ARCADES AMBO
Jeremiah entered Miser Farebrother's room, holding in his hand the bouquet of flowers he had brought for Phœbe. He had debated within himself whether he should allow the miser to see them or no, and he had decided in the affirmative. "Mother commenced it," he thought, "and I'll go on with it. Strike while the iron's hot, Jeremiah."
"You sent for me," said he, laying the bouquet on the table in full view of Miser Farebrother.
"Are those the flowers the gentleman lawyer gave my daughter?" asked Miser Farebrother.
"No," replied Jeremiah; "I didn't know he brought her any. I bought these in Covent Garden to present to Miss Phœbe."
"You are growing extravagant," said the miser; "and you are becoming quite a gay young character: first escorting my daughter home from the village, and now presenting her with expensive flowers. It rains flowers in Parksides to-day. I was never guilty of such extravagance – never."
"This is the first time I have ever done such a thing," said Jeremiah, apologetically; "but seeing it was Miss Phœbe's birthday, I thought the money wouldn't be exactly thrown away. Look here – that lawyer chap; he's up to no good."
"You don't like lawyers?"
"No more than you do; though, mind you, if I was married and had a son, I'd bring him up as one. Then he'd know exactly how far to go, and I should get my legal business done for nothing."
"Oh! oh!" said Miser Farebrother, with a quiet chuckle. "If you were married and had a son! That's looking ahead, Jeremiah."
"It's a good plan; it keeps one prepared. You've no objection to my giving Miss Phœbe these flowers, I suppose?"
"Not the slightest, so long as you bought them with your own money. Only don't do too much of that sort of thing. When you spend money, spend it to advantage – in something that will last, or will make more money. Spending money in flowers is folly; in two days flowers and money are gone. You can look at them in gardens and shop windows, then you get all your pleasure for nothing. That's the wise plan. Costs nothing for looking, Jeremiah."
"You are quite right. I'll bear in mind what you say, and profit by it."
"That pleases me. What I like is obedience – blind obedience – and I will have it from those in my control. So – you're thinking of marriage, eh? A wife is an expensive toy."
"Not when you've got the right one! Likely as not it keeps a man out of mischief."
"So long as you've got the right one! Your mother said something to me; has she told you of it?"
Jeremiah considered a moment, and for once in his life was candid.
"Yes," he said, "she told me of it."
"Sit down, Jeremiah."
The astute young man obeyed in silence, and inwardly congratulated himself. "Things are going on swimmingly," he thought; "the fish is as good as in my net already." While Miser Farebrother, gazing on Jeremiah, thought, "I'll bind him tight; I'll bind him tight!" Presently he spoke.
"You have been a long time in my service, and are acquainted with my business."
"I know all the ins and outs of it," said Jeremiah. "I've got it at my fingers' ends."
Miser Farebrother sighed. Humbly as Jeremiah's words were spoken, the miser felt that his managing clerk had him in his power. Well, the best plan was to put chains around him, and what chains so tight and binding as matrimony?
"If I came to grief, Jeremiah, you could set up in business for yourself?"
"Yes," said Jeremiah, boldly; "and make a fortune. But you come to grief! No, sir; not while I am with you."
"It is my misfortune," continued the miser, "and your good luck, that I am ill and weak, and unable to give the proper personal attention to my affairs."
"Why say 'misfortune,' sir? It may be your good luck as well as mine."
"But it is as I say," cried Miser Farebrother, testily.
"Very well, sir. Then what a shrewd man would do is to make the best of it." Jeremiah's cue was not to cross or vex his master; to assert himself up to a certain point, but to lead the miser to believe that in him, Jeremiah, a wily master had a suitable tool, who, for a prospective advantage, would devote himself hand and foot, body and soul, to his employer's interest.
"That is all that is left to me," groaned Miser Farebrother – "to make the best of it. Jeremiah Pamflett," he said, abruptly, "were I in your place and you in mine, how would you act?"
"Under precisely similar circumstances?"
"Yes, under precisely similar circumstances."
"I should seek an interview," said Jeremiah, keeping down his excitement, "with the young man who was managing my business in London for me, in whom I had every confidence, and say to him, 'You seem to have a liking for my daughter.'"
"Ah!" said Miser Farebrother, "Go on."
"'My object is,' I should say to this young man, 'that she shall marry a man who will serve me faithfully, to keep her out of the hands of scheming relatives, and to keep her especially out of the hands of scheming lawyers. You are the man I would select as her husband. Marry her, and continue to serve me faithfully, and then all our interests will be common interests, and I shall be safe from conspiracies, which have but one end in view: to rob me of my hard-earned money.'
