consisted, I discovered,
of two meagre mutton chops and some homemade bread and cheese, plain and
substantial fare enough in its way, but hardly the sort one would expect
from the owner of such a house. For a beverage, water was placed before
us, but I could see that my host was deliberating as to whether he
should stretch his generosity a point or two further.

Presently he rose, and with a muttered apology left the room, to return
five minutes later carrying a small bottle carefully in his hand. This,
with much deliberation and sighing, he opened. It proved to be claret,
and he poured out a glassful for me. As I was not prepared for so much
liberality, I thought something must be behind it, and in this I was not
mistaken.

"Nephew," said he after a while, "was it ten thousand pounds you
mentioned as your fortune?"

I nodded. He looked at me slyly and cleared his throat to gain time for
reflection. Then seeing that I had emptied my glass, he refilled it with
another scarce concealed sigh, and sat back in his chair.

"And I understand you to say you are quite alone in the world, my boy?"

"Quite! Until I met you this morning I was unaware that I had a single
relative on earth. Have I any more connections?"

"Not a soul--only Gwendoline."

"Gwendoline! and who may Gwendoline be?"

"My daughter--your cousin. My only child! Would you like to see her?"

"I had no idea you had a daughter. Of course I should like to see her!"

He left the table and rang the bell. The ancient man-servant answered
the summons.

"Tell you wife to bring Miss Gwendoline to us."

"Miss Gwendoline here, sir? You do not mean it sure-lie, sir?"

"Numbskull! numbskull! numbskull!" cried the old fellow in an ecstasy of
fury that seemed to spring up as suddenly as a squall does between the
islands, "bring her or I'll be the death of you."

Without further remonstrance the old man left the room, and I demanded
an explanation.

"Good servant, but an impudent rascal, sir!" he said. "Of course you
must see my daughter, my beautiful daughter, Gwendoline. He's afraid
you'll frighten her, I suppose! Ha! ha! Frighten my bashful, pretty one.
Ha! ha!"

Anything so supremely devilish as the dried-up mirth of this old fellow
it would be difficult to imagine. His very laugh seemed as if it had to
crack in his throat before it could pass his lips. What would his
daughter be like, living in such a house, with such companions? While I
was wondering,