y affectionate. Will you give me two hundred a year, and let me
live away from you?"

The old man looked down at the floor, and up at the ceiling; then
furtively into his granddaughter's face, then away from her.

"It's late now, we'll talk of it to-morrow," he said.

"No, I am not sleepy any longer. Two hundred a year is worth staying
awake for. Will you give it to me? You can promise to-night as well as
tomorrow."

"This is an important thing. I can't make up my mind all in a minute.
I've got to think."

"You can think now. I'll give you half-an-hour. I'll shut my tired eyes,
and you can think hard for half-an-hour."

"Nina, you are so persistent."

"Exactly, I am so persistent. Now my eyes are shut. Please begin to
think."

CHAPTER XIII.

THE WHITE BOAT AND THE GREEN.

About a fortnight after the events mentioned in the last chapter, the
landlady of the Blue Lion, the little slatternly village inn where Mr.
Hart and his granddaughter had their quarters, was somewhat
disappointed, somewhat puzzled, and certainly possessed by the demon of
curiosity when Hart told her that he and his granddaughter intended to
take their departure that evening. Hart often went away; Mrs. Timms was
quite accustomed to his sudden exits, but his granddaughter was always
left as a hostage behind. Hart with his queer ways, his erratic
payments, was perhaps not the most inviting lodger for an honest
landlady to count upon, but Mrs. Timms had grown accustomed to him. She
scolded him, and grumbled at him, but on the whole she made a good thing
out of him, for no one could be more generous than old Hart when he was
at all flush of cash.

He came down, however, this morning, and told her he was going.

"For a fortnight or so?" responded Mrs. Timms. "You'll leave Miss
Josephine behind as usual? I'll take good care of her."

"No, Miss Josephine is also going. Make out our bills, my good Timms,
I can pay you in full."

That evening there arrived at Northbury by the seven o'clock train a
single first-class passenger--a girl dressed in a long gray cloak, and a
big, picturesque shady hat stepped on to the platform. She was the only
passenger to alight at Northbury, and the one or two sleepy porters
regarded her with interest and admiration. She was very graceful, and
her light-colored eyes had a peculiar quick expression which made people
turn to watch her again.

The strange girl had scarcely any luggage--only a small portma