He was listening a little fretfully to his niece, but her strength and sweetness kept him from becoming too touchy.  The deep contralto that we know, said—­

“Well then, you see, uncle dear, these men cannot help themselves.  They are—­oh! such magnificent people—­that is the country-born ones, for some of the town men are not nice at all; but the East Coast men are so simple and fine, but then, you know, they are so poor.  Our dear Mr. Fullerton told me that in very bad weather the best men cannot earn so much as a scavenger can on shore.”

“Yes, yes, my girl.  You know I listen carefully to everything you say.  I value your talk immensely, but don’t you observe, my pet, that if I help every one who cannot help himself I may as well shorten matters by going into the street and saying to each passer-by, ’Please accept half a crown as your share of my fortune’?”

“But the reasons are peculiar here, uncle.  Oh!  I do so wish Mrs. Walton could see you.  She has logic, and she reasons where I dream.”

“Hah!  Would you?  What?  Turn Mrs. Walton loose at me?  No ladies here, miss, I warn you.”

“Now, please be good while I go on.  I want to repeat Dr. Ferrier’s reasoning if I can.  You have fish every day—­mostly twice?”

“Yes, but I don’t give charity to my butcher.  The rascal is able to tip me, if the truth were known.”

“True, uncle, and you don’t need to give anything to your fishmonger.  Why, you silly dear, you think you are a commercial genius, and yet the fishmonger probably charges you ever so much per cent over and above what the fishermen receive, because of the great expense of railway carriage and distribution of the fish.  I know that, because Mr. Fullerton told me; so you see I’ve corrected you, even you, on a point of finance.”

How prettily this stern, composed young woman could put on artful airs of youthfulness when she chose!  How she had that firm, far-seeing old man held in position, ready to be twirled round her rosy finger!

Which of us is not held in bondage by some creature of the kind?  Unhappy the man who misses that sweet and sacred slavery.

Mr. Cassall wrinkled his grim face not unpleasantly.  “Go on; go on.  You’re a lawyer, neither more nor less.  By the way, who is this—­this what’s-the-name—­the Doctor, that you mentioned?”

“Oh! he is a very clever young man who has chosen to become a surgeon instead of being a university professor.  He’s now out on the North Sea in all this bad weather.  He was so much struck with the need of a hospital, that he made up his mind to risk a winter so that he may tell people exactly what he has seen.  He doesn’t do things in a half-hearted way.

“What a long, pretty description of Mr. Ferrier.  You seem to have taken a good deal of notice of the fortunate youth.  Well, proceed.”

Marion was a little flushed when she resumed, but her uncle did not observe anything at all unusual.