, eh?" continued
the old general. "We never could get you married, you know--wild young
dog! Don't you know the girls?"

"Oh yes, Sir Percy," Mr. Roscorla said with no great good-will: then he
turned to the fire and began to warm his hands.

There was a tall young gentleman standing there who in former days would
have been delighted to cry out on such an occasion, "Why, Roscorla's
going to marry one of 'em!" He remained silent now.

He was very silent, too, throughout the evening, and almost anxiously
civil toward Mr. Roscorla. He paid great attention when the latter was
describing to the company at table the beauties of West Indian scenery,
the delights of West Indian life, the change that had come over the
prospects of Jamaica since the introduction of coolie labor, and the
fashion in which the rich merchants of Cuba were setting about getting
plantations there for the growth of tobacco. Mr. Roscorla spoke with the
air of a man who now knew what the world was. When the old general asked
him if he were coming back to live in Eglosilyan after he had become a
millionaire, he laughed, and said that one's coffin came soon enough
without one's rushing to meet it. No: when he came back to England
finally, he would live in London; and had Sir Percy still that old
walled-in house in Brompton?

Sir Percy paid less heed to these descriptions of Jamaica than Harry
Trelyon did, for his next neighbor was old Mrs. Trelyon, and these two
venerable flirts were talking of old acquaintances and old times at Bath
and Cheltenham, and of the celebrated beauties, wits and murderers of
other days, in a manner which her silent ladyship did not at all seem to
approve. The general was bringing out all his old-fashioned
gallantry--compliments, easy phrases in French, polite attentions: his
companion began to use her fan with a coquettish grace, and was vastly
pleased when a reference was made to her celebrated flight to Gretna
Green.

"Ah, Sir Percy," she said, "the men were men in those days, and the
women women, I promise you: no beating about the bush, but the fair word
given and the fair word taken; and then a broken head for whoever should
interfere--father, uncle or brother, no matter who; and you know our
family, Sir Percy, our family were among the worst--"

"I tell you what, madam," said the general, hotly, "your family had
among 'em the handsomest women in the west of England; and the
handsomest men, too, by Gad! Do you remember