to temporise, to affect ignorance, and say, What woman?
just as if his mind were not full of the woman, and of nothing else. But
he abandoned it as useless.

"I have not seen her since; not at all," he answered: and though his
words were purposely indifferent, his wife, knowing all his tones and
ways by heart, was not deceived. "He is afraid of that woman," she
whispered to herself; "or else afraid of _me_." But she said no more.

"Have you come to any definite understanding with Mr. Carradyne in
regard to Peacock's Range, Eliza?"

"He will not come to any; he is civilly obstinate over it. Laughs in my
face with the most perfect impudence, and tells me: 'A man must be
allowed to put in his own claim to his own house, when he wants to do
so.'"

"Well, Eliza, that seems to be only right and fair. Percival made no
positive agreement with us, remember."

"_Is_ it right and fair! That may be your opinion, Philip, but it is not
mine. We shall see, Mr. Harry Carradyne!"

"Dinner is served, ma'am," announced the old butler.

That evening passed. Sunday passed, the last day of the dying year; and
Monday morning, New Year's day, dawned.

* * * * *

New Year's Day. Mr. and Mrs. Hamlyn were seated at the breakfast-table.
It was a bright, cold, sunny morning, showing plenty of blue sky. Young
Master Walter, in consideration of the day, was breakfasting at their
table, seated in his high chair.

"Me to have dinner wid mamma to-day! Me have pudding!"

"That you shall, my sweetest; and everything that's good," assented his
mother.

In came Japhet at this juncture. "There's a little boy in the hall, sir,
asking to see you," said he to his master. "He--"

"Oh, we shall have plenty of boys here to-day, asking for a new year's
gift," interposed Mrs. Hamlyn, rather impatiently. "Send him a shilling,
Philip."

"It's not a poor boy, ma'am," answered Japhet, "but a little gentleman:
six or seven years old, he looks. He says he particularly wants to see
master."

Philip Hamlyn smiled. "Particularly wants a shilling, I expect. Send him
in, Japhet."

The lad came in. A well-dressed beautiful boy, refined in looks and
demeanour, bearing in his face a strange likeness to Mr. Hamlyn. He
looked about timidly.

Eliza, struck with the resemblance, gazed at him. Her husband spoke.
"What do you want with me, my lad?"

"If you please, sir, are you Mr. Hamlyn?" asked the child, going forward
with hes