ake it as a great compliment that
you should honour this sleepy little country place with your presence."

Nothing could be more hearty than his manner, and he set me at my ease
in an instant. But it needed all his cordiality to atone for the
frigidity and even rudeness of his wife, a tall, haggard woman, who
came forward at his summons. She was, I believe, of Brazilian
extraction, though she spoke excellent English, and I excused her
manners on the score of her ignorance of our customs. She did not
attempt to conceal, however, either then or afterwards, that I was no
very welcome visitor at Greylands Court. Her actual words were, as a
rule, courteous, but she was the possessor of a pair of particularly
expressive dark eyes, and I read in them very clearly from the first
that she heartily wished me back in London once more.

However, my debts were too pressing and my designs upon my wealthy
relative were too vital for me to allow them to be upset by the
ill-temper of his wife, so I disregarded her coldness and reciprocated
the extreme cordiality of his welcome. No pains had been spared by him
to make me comfortable. My room was a charming one. He implored me to
tell him anything which could add to my happiness. It was on the tip
of my tongue to inform him that a blank cheque would materially help
towards that end, but I felt that it might be premature in the present
state of our acquaintance. The dinner was excellent, and as we sat
together afterwards over his Havanas and coffee, which later he told me
was specially prepared upon his own plantation, it seemed to me that
all my driver's eulogies were justified, and that I had never met a
more large-hearted and hospitable man.

But, in spite of his cheery good nature, he was a man with a strong
will and a fiery temper of his own. Of this I had an example upon the
following morning. The curious aversion which Mrs. Everard King had
conceived towards me was so strong, that her manner at breakfast was
almost offensive. But her meaning became unmistakable when her husband
had quitted the room.

"The best train in the day is at twelve-fifteen," said she.

"But I was not thinking of going today," I answered, frankly--perhaps
even defiantly, for I was determined not to be driven out by this woman.

"Oh, if it rests with you--" said she, and stopped with a most insolent
expression in her eyes.

"I am sure," I answered, "that Mr. Everard King would tell me if I we