There was not a sound in the inner room.  Candle in hand, she opened the door and went in.  She put the candle on the mantelpiece, and then going to the bed, bent over it and looked at the sleeper.

“Poor Grand-dad!” said the girl.  She stooped and kissed the old man’s forehead.  “You have been good to me after your lights—­it was not your fault that those lights were dim.  Had you been an educated man, Grand-dad, you’d have educated me; and had you been a good man, you’d have taught me goodness; and a kind man, you’d have guarded your poor Nina.  Was it your fault that you were ignorant—­and wanting in goodness—­and lacking in kindness?  You did your best—­, after your lights.”

Then she stooped and kissed him again.  He was heavy from the drug she had put into the wine, and did not stir.  She slipped her hand softly under his pillow.

“Poor old man, I am taking away your trump-card,” she said.  She drew a thick letter, yellow with age, from under the pillow, put it into her pocket, and taking up the candle left the room.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

RIVALS.

A couple of days after this Beatrice Meadowsweet received a note from Mrs. Bell, asking her to call to see her.  The note came early in the morning, and immediately after breakfast Beatrice went to the Bells’ house.

Mrs. Bell took her into the drawing-room and shut the door behind them both.

“Beatrice,” she said, “I owed you a grudge, but that is past.  You stepped in, where you had no right to step, and for a time, I won’t deny it, my heart was very sore.  I haven’t sent for you to-day, though, to rip up past troubles.  I’m inclined to think that all’s for the best.  It has pleased the Almighty to provide you with a wild mate—­and my girl with a steady one.  Last night as the clock struck nine, Gusty Jenkins popped the question for Matty, and all being agreeable, the young man torn with love, and rock-like as regards character, Gusty and Matty are now an affianced pair.  Therefore, Beatrice, I say let by-gones be by-gones, and may you have what luck can await you in the future with that wild young man.”

“I don’t see why you should take away Captain Bertram’s character,” said Beatrice, with some spirit.  “You liked him very much once.”

“I’m not saying anything against him, my dear.  I mean not anything more than the truth can bear out.  There was a time when I thought well of Captain Bertram.  I’m the last to deny there was such a time, but handsome is that handsome does, and when a young man had not the courage to obey his heart’s promptings, and when rumors will travel on the breezes of extravagant, not to say naughty ways, I say, Beatrice, a woman can’t become blind as a bat when these things stare her in the face.”