The arrival of a young lady of fashionable appearance at Elba was matter of cogitation to Mrs. Cavely.  She was disposed to suspect that it meant something, and Van Diemen’s behaviour to her brother would of itself have fortified any suspicion.  He did not call at the house on the beach, he did not invite Martin to dinner, he was rarely seen, and when he appeared at the Town Council he once or twice violently opposed his friend Martin, who came home ruffled, deeply offended in his interests and his dignity.

“Have you noticed any difference in Annette’s treatment of you, dear?” Mrs. Cavely inquired.

“No,” said Tinman; “none.  She shakes hands.  She asks after my health.  She offers me my cup of tea.”

“I have seen all that.  But does she avoid privacy with you?”

“Dear me, no!  Why should she?  I hope, Martha, I am a man who may be confided in by any young lady in England.”

“I am sure you may, dear Martin.”

“She has an objection to name the . . . the day,” said Martin.  “I have informed her that I have an objection to long engagements.  I don’t like her new companion:  She says she has been presented at Court.  I greatly doubt it.”

“It’s to give herself a style, you may depend.  I don’t believe her!” exclaimed Mrs. Cavely, with sharp personal asperity.

Brother and sister examined together the Court Guide they had purchased on the occasion at once of their largest outlay and most thrilling gratification; in it they certainly found the name of General Fellingham.  “But he can’t be related to a newspaper-writer,” said Mrs. Cavely.

To which her brother rejoined, “Unless the young man turned scamp.  I hate unproductive professions.”

“I hate him, Martin.”  Mrs. Cavely laughed in scorn, “I should say, I pity him.  It’s as clear to me as the sun at noonday, he wanted Annette.  That’s why I was in a hurry.  How I dreaded he would come that evening to our dinner!  When I saw him absent, I could have cried out it was Providence!  And so be careful—­we have had everything done for us from on High as yet—­but be careful of your temper, dear Martin.  I will hasten on the union; for it’s a shame of a girl to drag a man behind her till he ’s old at the altar.  Temper, dear, if you will only think of it, is the weak point.”

“Now he has begun boasting to me of his Australian wines!” Tinman ejaculated.

“Bear it.  Bear it as you do Gippsland.  My dear, you have the retort in your heart:—­Yes! but have you a Court in Australia?”

“Ha! and his Australian wines cost twice the amount I pay for mine!”

“Quite true.  We are not obliged to buy them, I should hope.  I would, though—­a dozen—­if I thought it necessary, to keep him quiet.”

Tinman continued muttering angrily over the Australian wines, with a word of irritation at Gippsland, while promising to be watchful of his temper.

“What good is Australia to us,” he asked, “if it does n’t bring us money?”