“Robert,” cried Mrs Keswick, as he left the room, “I’ll save some dessert for you, and we’ll eat it together.”

Mr Brandon’s first impulse, when he found himself out of the dining-room, was to mount his horse and ride away; but there was no place to which he wished to ride; and he was a man who was very loath to leave the comforts of his home.  “No,” he said.  “She must go, and not I.”  And then he went into his parlor, and strode up and down.  As soon as Mrs Keswick had finished her dinner, he would see her there, and speak his mind to her.  He had determined that he would not again be alone with her, but, since the presence of others was no restraint whatever upon her, it had become absolutely necessary that he should speak with her alone.

It was not long before the Widow Keswick, with a brisk, blithe step, entered the parlor.  “I couldn’t eat without you, Robert,” she cried, “and so I really haven’t half finished my dinner.  Did you have to come in here to speak to your people?”

Mr Brandon stepped to the door, and closed it.  “Madam,” he said, “it will be impossible for me, in the absence of my niece, to entertain you here to-night, and so it would be prudent for you to start for home as soon as possible, as the days are short.  It would be too much of a journey for your horse to go back again to-day, and your vehicle is an open one; therefore I have ordered my carriage to be prepared, and you may trust my driver to take you safely home, even if it should be dark before you get there.  If you desire it, there is a young maid-servant here who will go with you.”

“Robert,” said Mrs Keswick, approaching the old gentleman and gazing fondly upward at him, “you are so good, and thoughtful, and sweet.  But you need not put yourself to all that trouble for me.  I shall stay here to-night, and in your house, dear Robert, I can take care of myself a great deal better than any lady could take care of me.”

“Madam,” exclaimed Mr Brandon, “I want you to stop calling me by my first name.  You have no right to do so, and I won’t stand it.”

“Robert,” said the old lady, looking at him with an air of tender upbraiding, “you forget that I am yours, now, and forever.”

Never, since he had arrived at man’s estate, and probably not before, had Mr Brandon spoken in improper language to a lady, but now it was all he could do to restrain himself from the ejaculation of an oath, but he did restrain himself, and only exclaimed:  “Confound it, madam, I cannot stand this!  Why do you come here, to drive me crazy with your senseless ravings?”