"I have thought a great deal of you ever since we first met," Serena was saying, and the old housekeeper caught the words as she crossed the threshold.
"Yes, yes," returned the old man, hastily, "but I am too old to think of marriage now. Serena, we will not discuss that at present."
"Very well."
Serena arose to her feet with an air of resignation, then turning sharply about, she encountered Mrs. Graves.
"What do you want?" demanded Serena, harshly.
The old woman's face wore a look of angry displeasure.
"I came here on business with Mr. Dane," she returned, coldly, "not with you. I beg your pardon, Miss Lynne, but I really do think that you are overreaching yourself somewhat, and playing a dangerous game. But it will be useless here," she added, freezingly, "for Mr. Dane is a man of good sense, although he is old and feeble."
Serena made no reply. She did not wish to provoke a controversy right there, in the presence of the old man; for then, of course, her plot would miscarry—her well-laid scheme be doubtless brought to grief—and her case was growing more desperate day by day.
The old home in Massachusetts had finally been sold, and the small amount which remained over, after all the debts were settled, was meager enough to make Serena's heart contract with slow horror at the thought of a possible old age in some alms-house, and Mrs. Lynne lived in daily and hourly dread of the day that would see them utterly penniless.
Time went on, and Serena tried to keep up heart and courage, and worked hard at her well-formed scheme of besieging the old man's heart.