ather hard on a man to have this sort of things brought
up. And the poor old governor is dead now: so, if you will permit me
to observe, bygones had better be bygones on that subject."

"Oh, by all means, Sir Harry; but you introduced the matter
yourself."

"Excuse me, Mr. Mayne," rather haughtily, "I introduced myself. I am
the son of Sir Francis. Well, if you know so much, you will understand
the sort of interest I take in my cousins and how I consider it my
duty to make up to them for what they have lost."

"Very proper, I am sure."

"As to that, duty is a pleasure. They are such awfully jolly girls,
and so uncommonly plucky, that I am as proud of them as though they
were my own sisters. Nan is so confoundedly pretty, too. I don't
wonder at your son's taste. He must be a lucky fellow who gets Nan."

"Sir!" vociferated Mr. Mayne; and Sir Harry immediately changed his
tactics:

"That is a tidy place opposite you,--Gilsbank, I mean. I have been
over there settling about the purchase. I am afraid Crauford is rather
a screw: he wanted to drive too close a bargain. But I said, 'No; you
shall have your money down, right and tight, but not a farthing over.'
And I insisted on my right to change the name if I like. I have half a
mind to call it 'Challoner Place.'"

Mr. Mayne was wide awake now; his astonishment knew no bounds.

"You are going to buy Gilsbank!"

"I have bought it," was the cool response; "and I am now in treaty for
Glen Cottage. My aunt has a fancy for her old home; and, though it is
not much of a place, it is big enough for her and the girls; and
Ibbetson has done a good deal to improve it. You look surprised, Mr.
Mayne; but I suppose a man must live somewhere!"

"Of course it is none of my business; but I thought Sir Francis was as
poor as a church mouse. Mrs. Challoner was my informant; and she
always led me to suppose so."

"She was perfectly right. The poor old man never could keep money in
his pocket: it always seemed to slip through his fingers. But that is
not my case. I have been a lucky fellow all my life. I roughed it a
bit in the colonies at first; but it did me no harm. And then we made
a splendid hit out in Sydney,--coined money, in fact. I would not like
to tell you what I made in one year: it seems blowing one's trumpet,
somehow. But I soon got sick of making it; and here I am, with a tidy
fortune,--plenty for myself, and enough to set up my aunt and the
girls comfortably without f