But never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of bread-fruit toward him. ‘Jarvis Remenham was your mother’s father. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. Very well, then. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. ’ Handing over the guineas, he added, ‘For you. “You love some one else?” he repeated. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Then he stood up and repeated it again. ” She said. “Hold on, she’s right here.
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