does he want?" asked Sir Simon, crossly. "Tell him to wait, Gilroy. I can't see him at once. Lucy, stop here, I want to speak."
The housekeeper left the room to detain Mr. Beryl, and Lucy obediently resumed her seat. She was a handsome, dark girl, with rather a high color and a temper to match. But she knew when she was well off and kept her temper in check for fear of Sir Simon turning her adrift. He would have done so without scruple had it suited him. Lucy was therefore astute and assumed a meekness she was far from possessing. Mrs. Gilroy saw through her, but Lucy – as the saying goes – pulled the wool over the old man's eyes.
Sir Simon took a turn up and down the room. "What about Bernard?" he asked, abruptly stopping before her.
Lucy looked up with an innocent smile. "Dear Bernard!" she said.
"Do you know where he is?" asked the baronet, taking no notice of the sweet smile and sweet speech.
"No, he has not written to me."
"But he has to that girl. You know her?"
"Alice! yes, but Alice doesn't like me. She refuses to speak to me about Bernard. You see," said Lucy, pensively, "I am engaged to Julius, and as you have sent Bernard away – "
"Julius comes in for my money, is that it?"
"Not in my opinion," said Miss Randolph, frankly, "but Alice Malleson thinks so."
"Then she thinks rightly." Lucy started at this and colored with surprise at the outspoken speech. "Since Bernard has behaved so badly, Julius shall be my heir. The one can have the title, the other the money. All the same I don't want Bernard to starve. I daresay Julius knows where he is, Lucy. Find out, and then I can send the boy something to go on with."
"Oh!" said Lucy, starting to her feet and clasping her hands, "the Red Window, – I mean."
"I should very much like to know what you do mean," said Sir Simon, eyeing her. "The Red Window! Are you thinking of that ridiculous old legend of Sir Aymas and the ghost?"
"Yes," assented Miss Randolph, "and of Bernard also."
"What has he to do with the matter?"
"He asked me, if you showed any signs of relenting, to put a light in the Red Window at the Hall. Then he would come back."
"Oh!" Sir Simon did not seem to be displeased. "Then you can put the light in the window when we go back in three weeks."
"You will forgive him?"
"I don't say that. But I want to see him settled in some reputable way. After all," added the old man, sitting down, "I have been hard on the boy. He is young, and, like all fools, has fallen in love with a pretty face. This Miss Malleson – if she has any right to a name at all – is not the bride I should have chosen for Bernard. Now you, my dear Lucy – "
"I am engaged to Julius," she interposed quickly, and came towards the fire. "I love Julius."
"Hum! there's no accounting for tastes. I think Bernard is the better of the two."
"Bernard has always been a trouble," said Lucy, "and Julius has never given you a moment's uneasiness."
"Hum," said Sir Simon again, his eyes fixed on the fire. "I don't believe Julius is so good as you make him out to be. Now Bernard – "
"Uncle," said Lucy, who had long ago been instructed to call her relative by this name, "why don't you make it up with Bernard? I assure you Julius is so good, he doesn't want to have the money."
"And you?" The old man looked at her sharply.
"I don't either. Julius has his own little income, and earns enough as an architect to live very comfortably. Let me marry Julius, dear uncle, and we will be happy. Then you can take back Bernard and let him marry dear, sweet Alice."
"I doubt one woman when she praises another," said Sir Simon, dryly. "Alice may be very agreeable."
"She is beautiful and clever."
The baronet looked keenly at Lucy's flushed face, trying to fathom her reason for praising the other woman. He failed, for Miss Randolph's face was as innocent as that of a child. "She is no doubt a paragon, my dear," he said; "but I won't have her marry Bernard. By this time the young fool must have come to his senses. Find out from Julius where he is, and – "
"Julius may not know!"
"If Julius wants my money he will keep an eye on Bernard."
"So as to keep Bernard away," said Lucy, impetuously. "Ah, uncle, how can you? Julius doesn't want the money – "
"You don't know that."
"Ask him yourself then."
"I will." Sir Simon rang the bell to intimate to Mrs. Gilroy that Julius could be shown up. "If he doesn't want it, of course I can leave it to someone else."
"To Bernard."
"Perhaps. And yet I don't know," fumed Sir Simon. "The rascal defied me! He offered to pitch me out of the window if I said a word against that Alice of his. I want Bernard to marry you – "
"I am engaged to Julius."
"So you said before," snapped the other. "Well, then, Miss Perry. She is an heiress."
"And as plain as Alice is handsome."
"What does that matter? She is good-tempered. However, it doesn't matter. I won't be friends with Bernard unless he does what I tell him. He must give up Alice and marry Miss Perry. Try the Red Window scheme when you go back to the Hall, Lucy. It will bring Bernard to see me, as you say."
"It will," said Lucy, but by no means willingly. "Bernard comes down at times to the Hall to watch for the light. But I can make a Red Window here."
"Bernard doesn't know the house."
"I am sure he does," said Lucy. "He has to go to the lawyers for what little money he inherits from his father, and Mr. Durham may have told him you are here. Then if I put the light behind a red piece of paper or chintz, Bernard will come here."
"It is all romantic rubbish," grumbled the old man, warming his hands. "But do what you like, child. I want to give Bernard a last chance." At this moment Julius appeared. He was a slim young man with a mild face, rather expressionless. His hair and eyes were brown. He was irreproachably dressed, and did not appear to have much brain power. Also, from the expression of his eyes he was of a sly nature. Finally, Mr. Beryl was guarded in his speech, being quite of the opinion that speech was given to hide thoughts. He saluted his uncle affectionately, kissed Lucy's cheek in a cold way, and sat down to observe what a damp, dull day it was and how bad for Sir Simon's rheumatism. A more colorless, timid, meek young saint it would have been hard to find in the whole of London.
"I have brought you some special snuff," he said, extending a packet to his host. "It comes from Taberley's."
"Ah, thank you. I know the shop. A very good one! Do you get your cigars there, Julius?"
"I never smoke," corrected the good young man, coldly.
Sir Simon sneered. "You never do anything manly," he said contemptuously. "Well, why are you here?"
"I wish, with your
