So is everybody who dares treat an old man thus." "Pardon me, Miss Oliphant, that is not quite respectful to your own father." She rounded on him with trembling lips.
"My father," she began and faltered--"my father is not the sort of man to do a thing of this kind unless he were cajoled into it by some-- some--some one like you, Mr Pottinger--" With which she left the room, much to the lawyer's relief, who tried to laugh to himself at the pretty vixen, but couldn't be as merry as he would have wished.
Rosalind, on her return to Maxfield, went straight with flashing eyes to Roger's room, and told him the story.
"Roger," she said, "if you are half a man you will stop it.

You are master here, or will be.

Are you going to let this poor old man be turned out of his home?
You are not the dear boy I take you for, if you are." "Of course it must be stopped," said Roger, amazed at her vehemence; "and it shall be.

I always thought Pottinger a sneak.

I assure you, Rosalind, I shall make poor old Hodder happy before we are a day older.
So good-bye; I'll go at once." But he was no match for the lawyer, who politely recounted the circumstances and referred him to his guardians, who, however, as he pointed out, had no choice but to accept the best-paying tenant.
"It is done in your interest, my dear boy," said Mr Pottinger.