"It's late now, we'll talk of it to-morrow," he said.
"No, I am not sleepy any longer. Two hundred a year is worth staying awake for. Will you give it to me? You can promise to-night as well as tomorrow."
"This is an important thing. I can't make up my mind all in a minute. I've got to think."
"You can think now. I'll give you half-an-hour. I'll shut my tired eyes, and you can think hard for half-an-hour."
"Nina, you are so persistent."
"Exactly, I am so persistent. Now my eyes are shut. Please begin to think."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WHITE BOAT AND THE GREEN.
About a fortnight after the events mentioned in the last chapter, the landlady of the Blue Lion, the little slatternly village inn where Mr. Hart and his granddaughter had their quarters, was somewhat disappointed, somewhat puzzled, and certainly possessed by the demon of curiosity when Hart told her that he and his granddaughter intended to take their departure that evening. Hart often went away; Mrs. Timms was quite accustomed to his sudden exits, but his granddaughter was always left as a hostage behind. Hart with his queer ways, his erratic payments, was perhaps not the most inviting lodger for an honest landlady to count upon, but Mrs. Timms had grown accustomed to him. She scolded him, and grumbled at him, but on the whole she made a good thing out of him, for no one could be more generous than old Hart when he was at all flush of cash.