the
worst."

"Then why," began Dick, and then paused. "But Esther," he began again,
once more to interrupt himself. "The fact is, Admiral," he came out with
it roundly now, "your daughter wished to run away from you to-day, and I
only brought her back with difficulty."

"In the pony carriage?" asked the Admiral, with the silliness of extreme
surprise.

"Yes," Dick answered.

"Why, what the devil was she running away from?"

Dick found the question unusually hard to answer.

"Why," said he, "you know you're a bit of a rip."

"I behave to that girl, sir, like an archdeacon," replied Van Tromp
warmly.

"Well--excuse me--but you know you drink," insisted Dick.

"I know that I was a sheet in the wind's eye, sir, once--once only,
since I reached this place," retorted the Admiral. "And even then I was
fit for any drawing-room. I should like you to tell me how many fathers,
lay and clerical, go upstairs every day with a face like a lobster and
cod's eyes--and are dull, upon the back of it--not even mirth for the
money! No, if that's what she runs for, all I say is, let her run."

"You see," Dick tried it again, "she has fancies--"

"Confound her fancies!" cried Van Tromp. "I used her kindly; she had her
own way; I was her father. Besides, I had taken quite a liking to the
girl, and meant to stay with her for good. But I tell you what it is,
Dick, since she has trifled with you--Oh yes, she did though!--and since
her old papa's not good enough for her--the devil take her, say I."

"You will be kind to her at least?" said Dick.

"I never was unkind to a living soul," replied the Admiral. "Firm I can
be, but not unkind."

"Well," said Dick, offering his hand, "God bless you, and farewell."

The Admiral swore by all his gods he should not go. "Dick," he said,
"you are a selfish dog; you forget your old Admiral. You wouldn't leave
him alone, would you?"

It was useless to remind him that the house was not his to dispose of,
that being a class of considerations to which his intelligence was
closed; so Dick tore himself off by force, and shouting a good-bye, made
off along the lane to Thymebury.

CHAPTER IX

IN WHICH THE LIBERAL EDITOR APPEARS AS "DEUS EX MACHINA"

It was perhaps a week later, as old Mr. Naseby sat brooding in his
study, that there was shown in upon him, on urgent business, a little
hectic gentleman shabbily attired.

"I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, Mr. Naseby," he said; "b