“It’s all right, I tell you, my dear boy.  You don’t understand women yet.  A girl who says snap the moment you say snip, isn’t worth having.  A good, true woman takes some wooing and winning; and no wonder, for it is a tremendous surrender for her to make.”

“Yes, sir, you are quite right, but ­”

“Yes; never mind the buts, Glyddyr.  I could put my foot down, and say:  `Claude, my dear, there’s your husband,’ but it would mean a scene, and a lot of excitement, and I should be ill ­perhaps have one of my confounded fits.”

“But without going so far as that, sir, couldn’t you ­just a little, you know ­parental authority ­you understand.  I am kept back so terribly as yet.”

“No, my lad, I should not be serving your cause,” said Gartram firmly.  “You see, she had always been so intimate with that fellow Lisle.  Boy and girl together.  It will take a little time to wean her from the fancy, and if I pull out the authoritative stop I shall be making him into a hero and her into a persecuted heroine.  I may as well tell you that she is a bit firm, like I am, and any angry discussion on my part would perhaps make her stubborn.”

“Then, perhaps, you had better not speak, sir.”

“Decidedly not.  There, you have the run of my place.  Set to and win her like a man.  Get along with you, you dog.  Smart, handsome fellow like you don’t want any help.  It’s only a matter of time.  Don’t seem to push your suit too hard.  Treat it all as a something settled; and all you have to do is to get her used to you and her position as your betrothed.  Bah! it will all come right, so don’t let’s risk opposition.  You will win.”

“You are right, sir,” said Glyddyr.  “I’ll be patient.”

“Of course you will.  That’s right.  I say, though, that little upset?”

“Little upset, sir?” said Glyddyr starting.

“I mean about your friend, the visitor from town, whose wife came after him.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Glyddyr.  “I didn’t know what you meant.”

“Rather an exciting affair, that.  Strikes me that if it had had a tragic termination, your friend would not have broken his heart.  I say, here you are in a hurry to get married, and you never know how the lady may turn out.”

“Ah, that was an exception, sir,” said Glyddyr hurriedly.

“Yes; but depend upon it, my dear boy, that was a hasty marriage.  The gentleman said snip, and she said snap.  Wasn’t it so?”

“Yes; I think you are right,” said Glyddyr.

“What a temper that woman must have.  They tell me she deliberately stepped off the pier to follow him, or drown herself in a fit of passion.”

“Well, I’ll take your advice, sir,” said Glyddyr, hurriedly changing the conversation.  “Of course, I can’t help feeling impatient.”

“No, of course, no,” said Gartram.  “Come in,” he added, as there was a timid knock at the door.

“I beg pardon, sir, but Doctor Asher said I was to be particular as to time.”

Sarah Woodham entered the room with a small tray, bearing glass and bottle.

There was a peculiar, shrinking, furtive look about the woman, that would have impressed a stranger unfavourably; but Glyddyr was too intent upon his own business, and Gartram already disliked his old servant, and did not shrink about showing it.

“Oh!” he said roughly.  “Well, pour it out.  Won’t take a glass, I suppose, Glyddyr?”

“Oh, no, thanks.  Not my favourite bin.”

“Thank your stars.  Nice thing to be under the doctor’s hands.  Hard, isn’t it?  Regular piece of tyranny.”

“Oh, you’ll soon get over that, Mr Gartram.  Temporary trouble.”

“Ah, I don’t know, my lad.  Here, that’s more than usual, isn’t it, Sarah?”

“No, sir.  Exactly the quantity.”

“Humph!  Bah!  Horrible!”

He had gulped the medicine down, and thrust the glass back on the tray.

“There, take it away,” he said.

The woman looked at him furtively, and slowly left the room.

“How I do hate to see a nurse in black,” exclaimed Gartram impatiently.  “When a man’s ill, the woman who attends upon him ought to look bright and cheerful.  That woman always gives me a chill.”

“Why not make her dress differently?”

“Can’t.  Widow of that poor fellow who was killed.”

“Oh, yes; I remember.”

“Whim of Claude’s to have her here.”

“Yes, I know.  Your old servant.  Well, it was a graceful act on Miss Gartram’s part.”

“Of course; but it worries me.”

“The medicine makes you feel a little irritable, perhaps.”

“No, it does not, man.  It’s tonic, and I’m taking chloral, which is calming, or I don’t know what I should do.”

“Chloral?” said Glyddyr.

“Yes; curse it ­and bless it.  I don’t know what I should do without it. 
Tell you what though.  You must give me some more sails in your yacht. 
Cuts both ways?”

“I shall be most happy.”

“Yes; does me good and gives you pleasant opportunities, eh?  I ought to be ashamed to say it, perhaps, but I am not.  Confound that medicine!  What a filthy taste it does leave in one’s mouth; quite makes one’s throat tingle, too.”

“When will you have another sail, sir?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  When did we go last?”

“Tuesday.”

“To be sure; and this is Thursday.  That medicine seems to confuse me a bit sometimes.  Well, say this evening.  By-the-bye, Glyddyr, that was a pleasant little idea of yours.”

“What idea, sir?”

“Quite startled my girl when that puss Mary drew her attention to it.  How cunning you young fellows grow now-a-days.”

“I don’t quite grasp what you mean, sir.”

“Altering the name of the yacht.”

“Oh!”

“A very delicate little compliment, my lad, and it does you credit.”

“But Miss Gartram, sir?” said Glyddyr hurriedly; “is she in the drawing-room?”

“In the drawing-room? no,” said Gartram, with a strange display of irritability.  “I told you when you first came that she had gone for a long walk up the glen with her cousin.”

“I beg your pardon, sir.  I don’t think ­”

“Now, damn it all, Glyddyr, don’t you take to contradicting me; and perhaps by this time that confounded scoundrel Lisle has followed her.”

Glyddyr leaped from his seat.

“No, no; I don’t mean it,” said Gartram, calming down.  “Lisle is not at home.  Gone to London, I think, or I wouldn’t have let them go.  There, my lad, don’t you take any notice of me,” he continued, holding out his hand; “it’s that medicine.  I wish Asher was hung.  So sure as I take a dose, I grow irritable and snappish, just as if a fit was threatening; but it keeps ’em off, eh?”

“I should say so, decidedly; and I wouldn’t dwell upon the possibility if I were you.”

“Well, curse it all, man, who does?” cried Gartram fiercely.  “There, I beg your pardon.  Go and meet the girls and come back, and we’ll have an early dinner, and then you can take us for a sail.  Well, what the devil do you want?” he roared, as Sarah re-entered the room; “haven’t I just taken the cursed stuff?”

“Beg pardon, sir, a telegram.”

“Well, don’t stand staring like a black image.  Give it to me.”

“For Mr Glyddyr, sir ­the boy heard from the sailors at the pier that he was here, and brought it on.”

“Well, then, give it to him; and look here, I’m sure you must have given me too strong a dose this morning.”

“No, sir; Miss Claude measured it before she went.  I took the bottle and glass to her.”

“Humph!  Feels wrong somehow.  Is it fresh stuff?”

“No, sir; the same.”

“Humph!  Well, Glyddyr, good news?”

“Ye-es,” said Glyddyr, with a peculiar look in his eyes.  “Only from my agent in town.  You’ll excuse me now?”

“To be sure.  Go round by the bridge and you’ll meet ’em.  Dinner at five.  Hi, Sarah!  Mind that:  five.”

“Yes, sir,” said the woman, and she glided like a black shadow out of the room after Glyddyr, who hurried along the terrace down to the beach, where he could light a cigar and smoke.

“I feel as if they were poisoning me amongst them,” said Gartram quite savagely.  “Not trying to put me out of the way, are they, for the sake of my coin?  How I do hate to see that woman going about like a great black cat.  Bah!  I’m as full of fancies as a child.”

Glyddyr lit his cigar and took out his telegram again and read it.

“My congratulations.  Hope you put it on heavy.  I did.  Coming down. ­ Gellow.”

The curse which Glyddyr uttered was, metaphorically speaking, glowing enough to fuse the sand.

The next minute he began walking swiftly along under the towering granite cliffs, so as to get out of sight and hearing while he gave vent to his feelings, for he felt that he could not command himself.

The telegram meant so much.

“I shall have to kill that man before I have done.  Yes; I shall have to kill that man,” said Glyddyr.

He started and looked up, for, plainly heard, some one seemed to repeat his words, “Kill that man.”

“Bah!” he cried impatiently, as he looked in the direction from which the sounds came, to find he was facing a huge wall of rock.  “Frightened at echoes now!”