"He is more than a man of genius," I replied with some emotion; "he is so good. At least he has always been so to me; he adopted and reared me quite as if I had been his own child, and that was very kind."
Mr. Thornton smiled, and spoke of good deeds that brought their own reward. I hinted that if I was a reward, it seemed hard he should be deprived of me. He evidently thought this hard, too; and though he did not say so, I saw he intended influencing Mr. Thornton in my favour. A fact on which I did not place much hope, for I knew enough of my grandfather to guess he was not easily governed.
He kept me with him transcribing for several hours the next day; but he never spoke until I was leaving the room, then he said very coolly:
"You can do the rest after dinner, whilst I go on with that little business to the wishing-well."
My hand was on the door; I turned round to give him a terrified look. He laughed as if he enjoyed my fright. I dare say I looked dismayed enough, for as I left the study, I met my cousin entering, and he gave me an astonished glance. I passed by him swiftly, and ran up to my room, there to write a few words, with which I hastened down again. Not suspecting that my grandfather would see me, or seeing me guess my intention, I went down the beech-tree avenue; but I had not gone ten steps, when the arched casement was thrown open, and Mr. Thornton appeared in the aperture, grim and forbidding.
"Miss Burns," he said, sternly, "will you come back, if you please. I want you. Sir, I shall thank you not to interfere."
The latter remark was addressed to my cousin, who, standing by him, seemed to plead or urge something. He bowed stiffly and drew back, looking offended. I obeyed the summons I had received, and returned to the study, my eyes overflowing with indignant tears which pride could scarcely restrain. Edward Thornton gave me a look of sympathy, and left as I entered. Mr. Thornton eyed me severely.
"You may as well give it up," he said, "for I won't allow it."
I sank down on a chair without replying. He continued:
"If you ever saw a moth singe its wings at a candle, you know the fate of your friend. Every one knows that though I don't care a farthing for game, I allow no poaching. We were three of us at the wishing-well the other evening. Since he would brave me, why I shall just show him that I have him so," he added expressively uniting his forefinger and thumb, "and that no later than this evening."