'Well, of course'-- he took a reflective turn up and down--'I've no particular wish just now for the county gaol.

It would be an infernal nuisance--in the middle of this book.

But I mean to give them as much trouble as I can.

I'm all right so far.' He looked up suddenly, and caught an expression on his secretary's face which called him to order at once, though he was not meant to see it.

Contempt ?--cold contempt?
Something like it.
The Squire drew himself up.
'You've made the arrangements, I suppose, for to-morrow ?' He spoke curtly, as the master of the house to a dependent.
Elizabeth meekly replied that she had done everything according to his directions.