"Don't talk balderdash! I'm disappointed in you, Violet, disappointed."
"I'm sorry, uncle; but I shan't cease to love you, and I hope you won't cease to love me."
"Why should I? Though your whole conduct shows you don't care a snap of your fingers for me. I don't believe you're really quite right in your head; I've half a mind to have you certified as a lunatic."
"You might find that harder than you suppose. But don't let us talk about that. You'll think better of me when I've gone. If you won't shake hands, once more good-bye. Remember, 2A Cobden Mansions. I shall be always glad to have a visit from you."
She was gone from the room, and very shortly afterwards from the house. His inclination was to stop her by strong measures, but second thoughts prevailed. He chose what he flattered himself was the wisdom of the serpent.
"If I let her think that it is a matter of complete indifference to me whether she goes or stays, she'll soon be back again. When a woman thinks that you don't care if she does make a fool of herself, she'll soon give up trying. I never thought that the girl would be such an imbecile."
When, a few days later, Sir George Beaton called, and placed him in possession of certain information, he formed a still lower estimate of his niece's mental capacity. The young man burst in on the old one just as he had finished his usual daily interview with his steward.
"Hovenden," he began, without any preliminary greeting, "what's this idea about Violet having left Nuthurst and gone to live in town?"
The old gentleman looked up from a bundle of papers which the steward had left behind.
"I don't know what you hear, but she's gone." His glance returned to the papers. "So far as I can understand, she's gone to look for your brother Sydney."