you? What do you mean?”
“Why, they prayed for my heart to be softened, hang ’em!”
“Oh, father, dear!”
“There you go again. Papa – papa – papa. Don’t forget that we do belong to the aristocracy after all. Now, go and send that dreadful woman away.”
“I cannot, dear.”
“Cannot?”
“No, papa. She has come to stay.”
“Sarah Woodham? To stay? Here?”
“Yes, dear. Poor thing: she is left penniless, almost, for Woodham did not save.”
“No, of course not. They none of them do.”
“He spent all he had to spare,” continued Claude, in the same gentle, murmuring tone, as she pressed her father’s hand to her cheek. “Everything he could scrape together he gave to the poorer chapel people.”
“Yes, I know; in his bigoted way to teach me what to do. And don’t keep on rubbing your cheek against my hand. Any one who saw you would think you were a cat.”
“So, papa dear, as we want a good, trustworthy woman in the house, and Sarah was with us so long, and knew our ways so well, I arranged for her to come back.”
“Claude!”
“Yes, dear; and these years of her married life, and the sad end, will be to her like a mournful dream.”
“I – ”
Norman Gartram made an angry gesture, but Claude’s arms stole round his neck, her lips pressed his as she half lay upon his breast, and with the tears gently falling and hanging like pearls in his grisly beard, she said in a low, sweet voice, —
“And some day, father dear, at the last, as she thinks of what an asylum this has been to her, she will go down to her grave blessing your name for all the good that you have done, and this will make me very happy, dear, and so it will you.”
There was a long silence in the room, and Norman Gartram’s face began to grow less rugged. It was as if there was something of the same look as that in his child’s, when, with a tender kiss upon his brow, she left his arms and half playfully whispered, —
“Am I to go and send Sarah Woodham away?”
“No,” he said hastily, as his old look returned; “you are as bad as your poor, dear mother, every bit. No,” he cried, with an angry flush. “I won’t do that, though. Not a farthing of my money shall go towards paying for that man’s funeral.”
“Father, dear – ”
“Papa.”
“Then papa, dear,” said Claude quietly, “I have paid everything connected with poor Woodham’s funeral.”
“You have?”
“Yes; you are very generous to me with money, and I had plenty to do that.”
“Yes; and stinted yourself in clothes. You don’t dress half well enough. Well, there, it’s done now, and we can’t alter it. I suppose these people will think it was my doing.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Of course. Well, as to this woman, keep her and nurse and pamper her, and pay her the largest wages you can; and mark my words, my pet, she’ll turn round and worry us for what we have done.”
“I have no fear, dear. I know Sarah Woodham too well, and I can do anything I like with her.”
“Yes, as you can with me, you hussy,” he cried. “Duke – King – why, I’m like water with you, Claude. But,” he cried, shaking a finger at her, “there are things, though, in which I mean to have my way.”
Claude flushed up, and a hard look came into her eyes.
But no more was said then.
Volume One – Chapter Ten.
Denise
“What the deuce brought you here?”
“Train my boy. Saw in the shipping news that The Fair Star was lying in Danmouth. Felt a bit seedy, and knew that you would give me a berth aboard, and here I am.”
“So I see.”
“Well, don’t be so gloriously glad, dear boy. Don’t go out of your mind and embrace me. I hate to be kissed by a man; it’s so horribly French.”
“Don’t be a fool.”
“Certainly not; but you seemed to be in such raptures to meet me that I was obliged to protest.”
“Now, look here, Gellow, it’s not of the slightest use for you to hunt me about the country. I have no money, and I can’t pay.”
“I never said a single word about money, dear boy.”
“No; but you look money, and think money, and smell of money. Good heavens, man, why don’t you dress like a gentleman, and not come down to the seaside like the window of a pawnbroker’s shop?”
“Dress like a gentleman, sir? Why, I am dressed like a gentleman. These are real diamond studs, sir. First water. Rings, chain, watch, everything of the very best. Never catch me wearing sham. Look at those cuff studs. As fine emeralds as you’d see.”
“Bah! Why don’t you wear a diamond collar, and a crown. I believe you’d like to hang yourself in chains.”
“My dear Glyddyr, how confoundedly nasty you can be to the best friend you have in the world.”
“Best enemy; you are always hunting me for money.”
“Yes; and going back poorer. You are such a one to wheedle a fresh loan.”
“Yes; at a hundred per cent.”
“Tchah! Nonsense! But, I say, nothing wrong about the lady, is there?”
“Hold your tongue, and mind your own business.”
“Well, that is my business, you reckless young dog. If you don’t make a rich match, where shall I be?”
“Here, what are you doing?”
“Ringing the bell, dear boy.”
“What for?”
“Well, that’s fool. I have come all this way from town, had no end of trouble to run you down at your hotel, and then you think I don’t want any breakfast.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr Glyddyr wants breakfast in directly. Here, what have you got? No, never mind what you’ve got. I’ll have broiled chicken and a sole. A fresh chicken cut up, mind; none of your week-old, cooked stales. Coffee and brandy. Mr Glyddyr’s order, you know.”
The waiter
