"Circumstances at present are so very doubtful," resumed Mr. North. "They may turn out well; or very ill----"
"Very ill!" involuntarily interrupted Ethel.
"Yes, they may."
The answer was given in a marked, decisive tone. For the doubt that ran through his mind--that had run through it much lately--was this: If it should indeed prove that the Master of Greylands had dealt ill with Anthony, George North could scarcely bring himself to marry one so closely connected with Greylands' Rest as Ethel.
"And--in that case?" she continued after a pause, during which he seemed to have been lost in thought.
"In that case? Oh, I should become a wandering Arab again roaming the world at large."
"And settle eventually in France?"
"Very likely--if I settled anywhere. It is all so uncertain, Ethel, that I scarcely like to glance at it. I may hold property in England some time: and that might necessitate my living on it."
"Do you mean an estate? Such as this?"
"Yes, such as this," he answered with a passing, curious smile. "Meanwhile I am so happy in the present time, in my idle life--transferring some of the beauties of your country to enrich my portfolio, with the hospitable Dolphin roof over my head, and the grand, ever-moving sea before me like a glorious panorama--that I fear I am too willing to forget the future care which may come."