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of Sir Richard’s rich black silk doublet gave Thomas a curious feeling to which he could not put a name. He turned aside, and found that Isabella’s mother was gazing at Sir Richard with a look, Thomas discovered with a shock, which could only be called one of love. Now in his mother’s opinion a mistress was a wicked harpy who battened upon a man and drained him of his substance. It was all very disconcerting.
    â€œDo you mean to stay long here, sir?” enquired Joanna in her low rough tones.
    Thomas looked at her again. This time he perceived that though she was not in any sense a showy beauty, her round young face was frank and comely, her brown curls abundant,her dark blue eyes large and kind though at the moment troubled and perplexed. Her dress, too, was sober though well-appointed, and she entirely lacked that bedizenment of jewels which he had been taught to believe indispensable to women of her kind.
    â€œI do not know,” he replied gruffly.
    â€œStay,” whispered Joanna. “Stay, Mr. Thomas.”
    He looked at her in astonishment.
    â€œYour uncle will be less wild while you are with him,” said Joanna.
    Their eyes met, and it was clear to Thomas that Joanna loved his uncle, desired his welfare and deplored his follies even more than Thomas did himself.
    â€œYou mean—his gaming?” he murmured.
    â€œThat and the rest,” said Joanna.
    â€œSir John Resmond is below, sir,” announced a serving-man.
    Sir Richard turned from the window with the now smiling Isabella, and their moment of confidence was past.
2
    â€œYou said a thousand guineas, cousin,” said Sir Richard.
    â€œPounds, cousin,” said Sir John Resmond in his smooth drawling tones.
    His square pale face, between the scanty locks of blond hair which drooped over his large ears, retained its smile, and his short solid legs, each with its foot turned out rather too far for grace, did not reveal any least movement of vexation. But it seemed to Thomas that with the first hint of opposition Sir John’s whole body had taken on the semblance of stone, and that this was a reflexion of his mind’s stony hardness.
    â€œGuineas!” repeated Sir Richard sharply. “Had you not said guineas, I had not parted with the land. A thousand pounds will not clear the debt.”
    â€œYou should always game with pounds, cousin,” drawled Sir John. “Take my word for it, the settling is less uneasy so.”
    â€œThe manner of my wagers doth not concern you,” said Sir Richard.
    â€œTrue—very true,” agreed Sir John blandly. He put his square white hands together and flipped his thumb-nails against each other thoughtfully. “Let us not quarrel over fifty pounds, cousin,” he said at length.
    Thomas looked at him in astonishment. Did he really mean to yield in the matter? Yield good gold?
    â€œLet me have a few more acres to round off my purchase, and you and I will not quarrel about the price,” concluded Sir John. He turned from the fire and smiled at his cousin.
    â€œWell—this is not cousinly in you, Resmond,” said Sir Richard, hesitating. “However—”
    â€œNo!” said Thomas, leaning forward so that his angry young face came between them. “No, uncle! No!”
    â€œHere is a young gentleman with an eye to the main chance,” drawled Sir John. “He doth not intend you should diminish his inheritance, cousin Bellomont.” He spoke smoothly but a tightening of the muscles about his jaw showed that he was not pleased.
    â€œBecause I am young I am not under bond to accept insults,” said Thomas hotly.
    â€œNay! I intended no insult. It is right that you should care for what may one day be yours. You were foolish else,” said Sir John.
    â€œThe land has nothing to do with me. It is entirely your affair, uncle Richard,” said Thomas in a rage.
    He got up and stalked away towards the window. Even