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girl addressed laughed and shook her head.

      “Any one would think it would be a warning to any sensible man to keep his distance.”

      “Uncle! Pray!” whispered the niece, looking troubled; but the old man only chuckled and hooked another fish.

      “Going to make a fortune out of the old mine, Leslie!” he said.

      “Fortune? No, sir. A fair income, I hope.”

      “Which with prudence and economy – Scottish prudence and economy” – he added, meaningly, “would keep you when you got to be an old man like me. Bah!”

      He snatched out his line and gave an impatient stamp with his foot. “What is the matter, uncle?”

      “What’s the matter? It was bad enough before. Look there!”

      Volume One – Chapter Two.

      Elements of a Whole

      Madelaine Van Heldre had seen the object of Uncle Luke’s vexation before he called attention to it; and at the first glance her eyes had lit up with pleasure, but only to give place to an anxious, troubled look, and faint lines came across her brow.

      “Why, it is only Harry with his friend,” said Louise quietly.

      “Yes: flopping and splashing about in the boat. There will not be a fish left when they’ve done.”

      “I’ll tell them to land at the lower stairs,” said Louise eagerly.

      “No; let ’em come and do their worst,” said the old man, with quite a snarl. “Why doesn’t Harry row, instead of letting that miserable cockney fool about with an oar?”

      “Miserable cockney!” said Duncan Leslie to himself; and his face, which had been overcast, brightened a little as he scanned the boat coming from the harbour.

      “Mr Pradelle likes exercise,” said Louise quietly.

      Duncan’s face grew dull again.

      “Then I wish he would take it in London,” said the old man, “jumping over his desk or using his pen, and not come here.”

      The water glistened and sparkled with the vigorous strokes given by the two young men who propelled the boat, and quickly after there was a grating noise as the bows ground against the rocks of the point and a young man in white flannels leaped ashore, while his companion after awkwardly laying in his oar followed the example, balancing himself as he stepped on to the gunwale, and then, after the fashion of a timid horse at a gutter, making a tremendous bound on to the rocks.

      As he did this his companion made a quick leap back into the bows to seize the chain, when he had to put out an oar once more and paddle close up to the rock, the boat having been sent adrift by the force of the other’s leap.

      “What a fellow you are, Pradelle!” he said, as he jumped on to a rock, and twisted the chain about a block.

      “Very sorry, dear boy. Didn’t think of that.”

      “No,” said the first sourly, “you didn’t.”

      He was a well-knit manly fellow, singularly like his sister, while his companion, whom he had addressed as Pradelle, seemed to be his very opposite in every way, though on the whole better looking; in fact, his features were remarkably handsome, or would have been had they not been marred by his eyes, which were set close together, and gave him a shifty look.

      “How are you, uncle? How do, Leslie!” said Harry, as he stood twirling a gold locket at the end of his chain, to receive a grunt from the fisherman, and a friendly nod from the young mine-owner. “So here you are then,” he continued; “we’ve been looking for you everywhere. You said you were going along the west walk.”

      “Yes, but we saw uncle fishing, and came down to him.”

      “Well, come along now.”

      “Come? Where?”

      “Come where? Why for a sail. Wind’s just right. Jump in.”

      Duncan Leslie looked grave, but he brightened a little as he heard what followed.

      “Oh, no, Harry.”

      As she spoke, Louise Vine glanced at her companion, in whose face she read an eager look of acquiescence in the proposed trip, which changed instantly to one of agreement with her negative.

      “There, Vic. Told you so. Taken all our trouble for nothing.”

      “But, Harry – ”

      “Oh, all right,” he cried, interrupting her, in an ill-used tone. “Just like girls. Here’s our last day before we go back to the confounded grindstone. We’ve got the boat, the weather’s lovely; we’ve been looking for you everywhere, and it’s ‘Oh no, Harry!’ And Madelaine looking as if it would be too shocking to go for a sail.”

      “We don’t like to disappoint you,” said Madelaine, “but – ”

      “But you’d rather stay ashore,” said the young man shortly. “Never mind, Vic, old chap, we’ll go alone, and have a good smoke. Cheerful, isn’t it? I say, Uncle Luke, you’re quite right.”

      “First time you ever thought so then,” said the old man shortly.

      “Perhaps Miss Vine will reconsider her determination,” said the young man’s companion, in a low soft voice, as he went toward Louise, and seemed to Duncan Leslie to be throwing all the persuasion possible into his manner.

      “Oh no, thank you, Mr Pradelle,” she replied hastily, and Duncan Leslie once more felt relieved and yet pained, for there was a peculiar consciousness in her manner.

      “We had brought some cans with us and a hammer and chisel,” continued Pradelle. “Harry thought we might go as far as the gorns.”

      “Zorns, man,” cried Harry.

      “I beg pardon, zorns, and get a few specimens for Mr Vine.”

      “It was very kind and thoughtful of Harry,” said Louise hastily, “and we are sorry to disappoint him – on this his last day – but – ”

      “Blessed but!” said Harry, with a sneer; and he gave Madelaine a withering look, which made her bite her lip.

      “And the fish swarming round the point,” said Uncle Luke impatiently. “Why don’t you go with them, girls?”

      “Right again, uncle,” said Harry.

      The old man made him a mocking bow.

      “Go, uncle?” said Louise eagerly, and then checking herself.

      Duncan Leslie’s heart sank like an ingot of his own copper dropped in a tub.

      “Yes, go.”

      “If you think so, uncle – ”

      “Well, I do,” he said testily, “only pray go at once.”

      “There!” cried Harry. “Come, Maddy.”

      He held out his hand to his sister’s companion, but she hesitated, still looking at Louise, whose colour was going and coming as she saw Pradelle take off his cap and follow his friend’s example, holding out his hand to help her into the boat.

      “Yes, dear,” she said to Madelaine gravely. “They would be terribly disappointed if we did not go.”

      The next moment Madelaine was in the boat, Louise still hanging back till, feeling that it would be a slight worse than the refusal to go if she ignored the help extended to her, she laid her hand in Pradelle’s, and stepped off the rock into the gently rising and falling boat.

      “Another of my mistakes,” said Duncan Leslie to himself; and then he started as if some one had given him an electric shock.

      “Hullo!” cried the old man. “You’re going too?”

      “I? going?”

      “Yes, of course! To take care of them. I’m not going to have them set off without some one

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