where them books are now."

She kept silence--a silence which vaguely disturbed him.

So that he added: "And if ye're bent on a bigger house, there's one up
at Park-road, above th' Park, semi-detached--at least, it's the end of a
terrace--as I can get for thirty pounds a year."

"My dearest uncle," she said, in a firm, even voice, "what _are_ you
talking about? Didn't I tell you when I came in that I had settled to go
to Canada? I thought it was all decided. Surely you don't think I'm
going to live in a poky house in Park-road--the very street where my
school was, too! I perfectly understand that you won't buy Wilbraham
Hall. That's all right. I shan't pout. I hate women who pout. We can't
agree, but we're friends. You do what you like with your money, and I do
what I like with myself. I had a sort of idea I would try to make you
beautifully comfortable just for the last time before I left England,
and that's why I'm staying. I do hope you didn't imagine anything else,
uncle. There!"

She kissed him, not as a niece, but as a wise, experienced nurse might
have kissed a little boy. For she too, in her way, reckoned herself
somewhat of a diplomatist and a descendant of Machiavelli. She had
thought: "It's a funny thing if I can't bring him to his knees with a
tasty supper--just to make it clear to him what he'll lose if he loses
me."

James Ollerenshaw had no sleep that night. And Helen had but little.

CHAPTER XVIII

CHICANE

He came downstairs early, as he had done after a previous sleepless
night--also caused by Helen.

That it would be foolish, fatuous, and inexcusable to persevere further
in his obstinacy against Helen, this he knew. He saw clearly that all
his arguments to her about money and the saving of money were
ridiculous; they would not have carried conviction even to the most
passive intelligence, and Helen's intelligence was far from passive.
They were not even true in fact, for he had never intended to leave any
money to Helen's mother; he had never intended to leave any money to
anybody, simply because he had not cared to think of his own decease; he
had made no plans about the valuable fortune which, as Helen had too
forcibly told him, he would not be able to bear away with him when he
left Bursley for ever; this subject was not pleasant to him. All his
rambling sentences to Helen (which he had thought so clever when he
uttered them) were merely an excuse for not parting with money--mone