" Miss Pinckney exclaimed, "I don't look for
gratitude--never! So I am not disappointed. Gratitude isn't a plant
that grows in these parts. It doesn't flourish. The air doesn't suit
it, I suppose."

This was said with a glance at poor Patience, who was well accustomed
to such side-hits.

"It is a plant that has a deep root in my heart," said Mr. Skinner,
"and I hope the flower is not unpleasing, and that the fruit will be
satisfying."

This was a great flight of poetical rhetoric, and Miss Pinckney bridled
and simpered like a girl of sixteen.

"You are kindly welcome surely to anything I have to give, Mr. Skinner,
now and at _all_ times. Those that don't care for what I provide,
well, they may seek their fortune elsewhere, and the sooner the better."

Patience Harrison had long been disciplined to self-control, or she
could never have borne the "quips" and "quirks" of her sister.

Thus she kept silence, determined not to wrangle with Miss Pinckney in
the presence of witnesses; above all, not in the presence of the man
whom she distrusted.

So she quietly cleared away the supper when the meal was concluded, and
retired to the back premises to wash up the dishes, and put everything
in order for the night.

It was about ten o'clock when Mr. Skinner--having sipped his glass of
hot gin and water bid his hostess an affectionate adieu, and turned his
steps homewards.

When he reached his own gate he exchanged a quiet greeting with two
men, who were evidently waiting for him.

Then all three went softly round to the back of the house, and entered
it by the door through which Bet and little Miss Joy had gone in that
afternoon.

Mr. Skinner opened the door with a latch-key, and all three men passed
silently into the little room with the big table, covered with the
green cloth--the table which little Joy had said looked too big for the
room.

"Well," one of the men said, "'Fortune favours the brave.' I am in for
luck to-night. What have you got to drink? I dare say there's a
bottle of rum in the cupboard, eh?"

"Well," Mr. Skinner said, "I don't drink anything myself. So, no
doubt, what you left is to be had."

"Ah, ha! ah, ha!" laughed the other man. "You don't drink at your own
expense; is that it? The old lady in the row finds you in toddy."

"Shut up!" said the elder of the two men; "don't talk all night, but
let us to business."

Then two packs of cards were produced with the black bottle, and