Malet looked uneasy, but sneered. "By all means, if you want the whole forty thousand to go to fee the lawyers! But, before you risk losing your money, let me advise you to make sure of Miss Brenda Scarse!"
"What do you mean?"
"Ask Mr. van Zwieten, who is staying with her father."
"Oh!" said Harold, contemptuously, "Brenda has told me all about him. Her father wants her to marry him, and it is true he is in love with her; but Brenda loves me, and will never consent to become the wife of that Boer!
"Van Zwieten is no Boer. He is a Dutchman, born in Amsterdam."
"And a friend of yours," sneered Captain Burton. "He is no friend of mine!" shouted Malet, somewhat ruffled. "I detest the man as much as I do Scarse. If----"
"Look here, Gilbert, I don't want any more of this. I trust Brenda, and I intend to marry her."
"Very good. Then you'll have to starve on your three hundred a year."
"You refuse to give me the money?"
"Absolutely."