"In half an hour. I'll draw you a three months' agreement. Got any paper? Of course not. Julia is so near. What are those? Playing-cards. What do you play? 'Patience,' all by yourself. No wonder you are quarrelsome! Nothing else to bestow your energy on."
Percy denied this imputation. The cards were for pistol practice. He shot daily at the pips in the yard.
"It is the fiend Ennui that loads your pistols, and your temper too.
Didn't I tell you so?"
Walter then demanded the ace of diamonds, and on its face let him the house and premises on a repairing lease for three years, rent £5 a year: which was a good bargain for both parties, since Percy was sure to lay out a thousand pounds or two on the property, and to bind Julia more closely to him, who was worth her weight in gold ten times over.
Walter had brought the keys with him, so he drove Percy over at once and gave him possession, and, to do the little fellow justice, the moisture of gratitude stood in his eyes when they parted.
Walter told Julia about it the same night, and her eyes were eloquent too.
The next day he had a walk with Mary Bartley, and told her all about it. She hung upon him, and gazed admiringly into his eyes all the time, and they parted happy lovers.
Mr. Bartley met her at the gate, "Mary," said he, gravely, "who was that
I saw with you just now?"
"Cousin Walter."
"I feared so. You are too much with him."