"A tramp!" said Mrs. Lilly, with dignified disgust. "However did he get in here?"

"I ain't no tramp, lydies," said the man, twisting a piece of straw in his rabbit mouth. "I've got a 'ouse in town, an' a box in Scotlan', an' a yatsh at Cowes, I 'ave. Blimme me, if I ain't a gent at large, and devoted"--he bowed and leered--"to the genteel sect."

Beatrice looked at him with a shiver. He wore a suit of clothes too large for him, a dirty red wisp round his lean throat, and carpet slippers bound with string to his large feet. He was of no great height, and his shock of red hair made him look even smaller. His face was clean-shaven, or rather it ought to have been, for apparently it had not been touched by a razor for quite a week. Twisting the straw in his mouth, and a ragged cricketing cap in his hairy hands, he straddled with his short legs and leered impudently. It was the animal eyes of the man that made Beatrice shiver: they were green and shallow, like those of a bird, and the expression in them was evil in the extreme. The creature evidently had been steeped in iniquity from his cradle, and the foulness of his presence marred the perfect beauty of that still garden sleeping in the sunshine, so clean and wholesome.

"What do you want?" asked Miss Hedge sharply and shortly.

"I wos jest atellin' y'," said Waterloo--as he called himself--and his voice rasped like a file. "I wants t'see Mr. Paslow."

"He is in town," snapped Mrs. Lilly, surveying the creature with still deeper disgust. "Have you a message for him?"

Waterloo laid a warty finger on one side of his pug nose, and winked in a horribly familiar manner. "Thet's tellin's," said he, grinning, "an' not evin' to th' sect I'm so fond of, does I give myself away. Oh no, not at all, by no means, you dear things."

"Go away," cried Beatrice, putting her handkerchief to her nose, for the atmosphere was tainted by the presence of the man; "if you don't, I'll call Durban." This was a happy inspiration, as she knew that Durban was on the premises.

The man's eyes flashed still more wickedly. "Ho, yuss! by all means, miss. Call 'im, and you'll see wot you'll see." He spat out the straw, and produced a black pipe, which he stuck in his mouth. "I kin wyte."

"You'll be ducked in the horse-pond, you beast," said Mrs. Lilly, growing red with anger. "I'll hand you over to the police, and----"

"Durban! Durban!" called out Beatrice, who caught a glimpse of the servant round the corner of the terrace, and at once he came running down the steps. "Who is this man, Durban?"

"How dare you come here?" said Durban, advancing threateningly on the small man, who cringed and whined. "You were told not to come here at least a dozen times."

"Lor'!" whimpered the little man, now subdued and servile; "wot a fuss you do meke, Mr. Durban, sir. I come fur Mr. Paslow, I does."

"Send him away, Durban," cried Beatrice with great disgust.

Durban lifted one finger, and at once the tramp went slinking away like a dog with its tail between its legs. And like a dog he halted at the hedge which divided the drive from the garden, and showed his teeth in an evil snarl. Beatrice could see the flash of white, and could guess that he was snapping like a mad cur.

"Who on earth is that?" she asked Durban, when the man finally disappeared behind the hedge.

Durban looked pale, and wiped his face with a shaking hand. "He's a creature who did some dirty work for the late master."

"For Mr. Paslow?" demanded Mrs. Lilly, who always spoke of Vivian's father in that way.

"For Mr. Alpenny," explained Durban, becoming more himself. "He is an old scoundrel of nearly sixty years of age."

"He doesn't look it," said Beatrice.

"Strange as it may seem to you, missy, Waterloo has his vanity. He wears a wig, and his teeth are false. But he is old and wicked, and has been no end of times in prison. Mr. Alpenny employed him to do some business in the slums, and he was several times down at The Camp. I think he's a thief."

"I never saw him before, Durban."

"And you'll never see him again, missy," said the old servant emphatically. "Mr. Alpenny, as I told you, had to do with a lot of rogues and vagabonds, as many a money-lender has. But that sort of thing is all done with. Waterloo will never trouble you again."

"I am glad of that," said the girl, who was quite pale. "His presence seemed to taint the air. What a horrible man!"

"Why does he want to see Mr. Vivian?" asked Mrs. Lilly sharply.

Durban wheeled quickly. "He wants to see Mr. Paslow, does he? H'm! I wonder why that is?"

"I am quite sure you can explain," said Beatrice, who was piqued at being always kept in the dark.

Durban cast a look of pain on her, but replied quietly enough, "Perhaps I do, missy. Mr. Paslow, as I told you, had something to do with my late master's business."

"I never knew that," said Beatrice, remembering what Alpenny had hinted about Vivian's crimes.

"Ridiculous!" cried Mrs. Lilly, bristling. "Master Vivian is a gentleman, and would not meddle with your Alpennys and Waterloos.--Begging your pardon, my young lady, since Mr. Alpenny was your father."

"My stepfather," corrected Beatrice again.--"Well, Durban, if you won't tell me, I'll ask Mr. Paslow myself."

"Do, missy; I am quite sure he can explain. And don't trouble your pretty head any more about Waterloo, as there is trouble enough in the house now."

"What do you mean by that?" asked the girl, her heart giving a bound.

Durban pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I was coming to look for you," he said, "and I am glad that you called me. Major Ruck is in the drawing-room."

"Who is he?" asked Mrs. Lilly.

"He was a friend of my late master's."

"Then I hope he is a more respectable friend than the one we have seen," said the housekeeper indignantly. "Mercy me and all the silver and china ornaments in the drawing-room!" and she hurried towards the house.

"It is all right, Mrs. Lilly; you will find Major Ruck quite a gentleman, and very presentable. He is a friend of Lady Watson's too."

But Mrs. Lilly never waited to hear this explanation. As fast as her stoutness would allow her, she ran up the steps of the terrace and disappeared round the corner. Left alone with Durban, Beatrice asked the question which had been burning her lips ever since she heard that the Major was within. "Why has he come, Durban?"

"To ask you to marry him," said Durban grimly.

"But I don't know him," said Beatrice, alarmed.

"He knows you, missy--that is, he has seen your picture. Mr. Alpenny promised him that you should be his wife, and, as I told you, he will not let you slip through his fingers if he can help it."

"Durban," said the girl, after a pause, "............