what I don't feel. Far be it from me to
breathe a word against your housekeeper's
character. She is, no doubt, a most excellent and
trustworthy woman; but she has one serious
failing common to persons at her time of life who
occupy her situation—she is jealous of her
influence over her master, although you may not
have observed it."

"I beg your pardon," interposed Mr. Noel
Vanstone; "my observation is remarkably quick.
Nothing escapes it."

"In that case, sir," resumed the captain, "you
cannot fail to have noticed that Mrs. Lecount has
allowed her jealousy to affect her conduct towards
my niece?"

Mr. Noel Vanstone thought of the domestic
passage at arms between Mrs. Lecount and
himself, when his guests of the evening had left Sea
View, and failed to see his way to any direct
reply. He expressed the utmost surprise and
distress—he thought Lecount had done her best to
be agreeable on the drive to Dunwich—he hoped
and trusted there was some unfortunate mistake.

"Do you mean to say, sir," pursued the
captain, severely, "that you have not noticed the
circumstance yourself. As a man of honour, and
a man of observation, you can't tell me that!
Your housekeeper's superficial civility has not
hidden your housekeeper's real feeling. My
niece has seen it, and so have you, and so have I.
My niece, Mr. Vanstone, is a sensitive,
high-spirited girl; and she has positively declined to
cultivate Mrs. Lecount's society, for the future.
Don't misunderstand me! To my niece, as well
as to myself, the attraction of your society, Mr.
Vanstone, remains the same. Miss Bygrave
simply declines to be an apple of discord (if you
will permit the classical allusion?) cast into your
household. I think she is right, so far; and I
frankly confess that I have exaggerated a nervous
indisposition, from which she is really suffering,
into a serious illness—purely and entirely to
prevent these two ladies, for the present, from
meeting every day on the parade, and from carrying
unpleasant impressions of each other into
your domestic establishment and mine."

"I allow nothing unpleasant in my establishment,"
remarked Mr. Noel Vanstone. "I'm
master—you must have noticed that already,
Mr. Bygrave?—I'm master."

"No doubt of it, my dear sir. But to live
morning, noon, and night, in the perpetual
exercise of your authority, is more like the life of a
governor of a prison than the life of a master of
a household. The wear and tear—consider the
wear and tear."

"It strikes you in that light, does it?" said
Mr. Noel Vanstone, soothed by Captain Wragge's
ready recognition of his authority. "I don't know
that you're not right. But I must take some
steps directly. I won't be made ridiculous—I'll
send Lecount away altogether, sooner than be
made ridiculous." His colour rose; and he
folded his little arms fiercely. Captain Wragge's
artfully-irritating explanation had awakened that
dormant suspicion of his housekeeper's influence
over him, which habitually lay hidden in his mind;
and which Mrs. Lecount was now not present to
charm back to repose as usual. "What must
Miss Bygrave think of me!" he exclaimed, with a
sudden outburst of vexation. "I'll send Lecount
away—damme, I'll send Lecount away on the
spot!"

"No, no, no!" said the captain, whose interest
it was to avoid driving Mrs. Lecouut to any
desperate extremities. "Why take strong
measures, when mild measures will do? Mrs.
Lecount is an old servant; Mrs. Lecount is
attached and useful. She has this little drawback
of jealousy—jealousy of her domestic position
with her bachelor master. She sees you paying
courteous attention to a handsome young lady;
she sees that young lady properly sensible of your
politeness—and, poor soul, she loses her temper!
What is the obvious remedy? Humour her—
make a manly concession to the weaker sex. If
Mrs. Lecouut is with you, the next time we
meet on the parade, walk the other way. If Mrs.
Lecount is not with you, give us the pleasure
of your company by all means. In short, my dear
sir, try the suaviter in modo (as we classical men
say), before you commit yourself to the fortiter
in re!"

There was one excellent reason why Mr. Noel
Vanstone should take Captain Wragge's
conciliatory advice. An open rupture with Mrs.
Lecount—even if he could have summoned the
courage to face it—would imply the recognition
of her claims to a provision, in acknowledgment of
the services she had rendered to his father and to
himself. His sordid nature quailed within him
at the bare prospect of expressing the emotion
of gratitude in a pecuniary form; and, after first
consulting appearances by a show of hesitation,
he consented to adopt the captain's suggestion,
and to humour Mrs. Lecount.

"But I must be considered in this matter,"
proceeded Mr. Noel Vanstone. "My concession
to Lecount's weakness must not be misunderstood.
Miss Bygrave must not be allowed to
suppose I am afraid of my housekeeper."

The captain declared that no such idea ever
had entered, or ever could enter, Miss Bygrave's
mind. Mr. Noel Vanstone returned to the
subject nevertheless, again and again, with his
customary pertinacity. Would it be indiscreet if
he asked leave to set himself right personally
with Miss Bygrave? Was there any hope that
he might have the happiness of seeing her on
that day? or, if not, on the next day? or, if not,
on the day after? Captain Wragge answered
cautiously: he felt the importance of not rousing
Noel Vanstone's distrust by too great an alacrity
in complying with his wishes.

"An interview to-day, my dear sir, is out of
the question," he said. "She is not well enough;
she wants repose. To-morrow I propose taking
her out, before the heat of the day begins—not
merely to avoid embarrassment, after what
has happened with Mrs. Lecount—but because