“It’s going to, my dear,” said Mrs. Cavely.  “Think of that when he begins boasting his Australia.  And though it’s convict’s money, as he confesses—­”

“With his convict’s money!” Tinman interjected tremblingly.  “How long am I expected to wait?”

“Rely on me to hurry on the day,” said Mrs. Cavely.  “There is no other annoyance?”

“Wherever I am going to buy, that man outbids me and then says it’s the old country’s want of pluck and dash, and doing things large-handed!  A man who’d go on his knees to stop in England!” Tinman vociferated in a breath; and fairly reddened by the effort:  “He may have to do it yet.  I can’t stand insult.”

“You are less able to stand insult after Honours,” his sister said, in obedience to what she had observed of him since his famous visit to London.  “It must be so, in nature.  But temper is everything just now.  Remember, it was by command of temper, and letting her father put himself in the wrong, you got hold of Annette.  And I would abstain even from wine.  For sometimes after it, you have owned it disagreed.  And I have noticed these eruptions between you and Mr. Smith—­as he calls himself—­generally after wine.”

“Always the poor! the poor! money for the poor!” Tinman harped on further grievances against Van Diemen.  “I say doctors have said the drain on the common is healthy; it’s a healthy smell, nourishing.  We’ve always had it and been a healthy town.  But the sea encroaches, and I say my house and my property is in danger.  He buys my house over my head, and offers me the Crouch to live in at an advanced rent.  And then he sells me my house at an advanced price, and I buy, and then he votes against a penny for the protection of the shore!  And we’re in Winter again!  As if he was not in my power!”

“My dear Martin, to Elba we go, and soon, if you will govern your temper,” said Mrs. Cavely.  “You’re an angel to let me speak of it so, and it’s only that man that irritates you.  I call him sinfully ostentatious.”

“I could blow him from a gun if I spoke out, and he knows it!  He’s wanting in common gratitude, let alone respect,” Tinman snorted.

“But he has a daughter, my dear.”

Tinman slowly and crackingly subsided.

His main grievance against Van Diemen was the non-recognition of his importance by that uncultured Australian, who did not seem to be conscious of the dignities and distinctions we come to in our country.  The moneyed daughter, the prospective marriage, for an economical man rejected by every lady surrounding him, advised him to lock up his temper in submission to Martha.

“Bring Annette to dine with us,” he said, on Martha’s proposing a visit to the dear young creature.

Martha drank a glass of her brother’s wine at lunch, and departed on the mission.

Annette declined to be brought.  Her excuse was her guest, Miss Fellingham.

“Bring her too, by all means—­if you’ll condescend, I am sure,” Mrs. Cavely said to Mary.