‘How?’

A vision of savages flashed before Nancy’s mind.  She breathed more freely, thinking the danger past.

’Simply by making a fortune out of an estate that is lying all but barren.  Before the emancipation of the niggers, the Bahamas flourished wonderfully; now they are fallen to decay, and ruled, so far as I understand it, by a particularly contemptible crew of native whites, who ought all to be kicked into the sea.  My friend’s father is a man of no energy; he calls himself magistrate, coroner, superintendent of the customs, and a dozen other things, but seems to have spent his time for years in lying about, smoking and imbibing.  His son, I’m afraid, waits impatiently for the old man’s removal to a better world.  He believes there are immense possibilities of trade.’

Trying hard to recollect her geography, Miss.  Lord affected but a slight interest.

‘There’s no direct way of getting there,’ Tarrant pursued.  ’What route should you suggest?’

She was right, after all.  He wished to convict her of ignorance.  Her cheeks were now burning, beyond a doubt, and she felt revengeful.

‘I advise you to make inquiries at a shipping-office,’ was her distant reply.

’It seems’—­he was smiling at Nancy—­’I shall have to go to New York, and then take the Cuba mail.’

‘Are you going to join your friend in business?’

‘Business, I fear, is hardly my vocation.’

There was a tremor on Nancy’s lips, and about her eyelids.  She said abruptly: 

‘I thought you were perhaps in business?’

‘Did you?  What suggested it?’

Tarrant looked fixedly at her; in his expression, as in his voice, she detected a slight disdain, and that decided her to the utterance of the next words.

’Oh’—­she had assumed an ingenuous air—­’there’s the Black Lead that bears your name.  Haven’t you something to do with it?’

She durst not watch him, but a change of his countenance was distinctly perceptible, and for the moment caused her a keen gratification.  His eyes had widened, his lips had set themselves; he looked at once startled and mortified.

‘Black lead?’ The words fell slowly, in a voice unlike that she had been hearing.  ‘No.  I have nothing to do with it.’

The silence was dreadful.  Nancy endeavoured to rise, but her limbs would not do their office.  Then, her eyes fixed on the grass, she became aware that Tarrant himself had stood up.

‘Where are the children?’ he was saying absently.

He descried them afar off with Miss.  Morgan, and began to saunter in that direction.  As soon as his back was turned, Nancy rose and began to walk towards the house.  In a few moments Jessica and the girls were with her.

‘I think we must go,’ she said.

They entered, and took leave of Mrs. Baker, who sat alone in the drawing-room.

‘Did you say good-bye to Mr. Tarrant?’ Jessica asked, as they came forth again.