appealed to him.

"The man was rude to my friend, my dear," he said dispiritedly

"If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it," said Joan, hotly.

Gunn laughed uproariously.

"Gad, my dear, I like you!" he cried, slapping his leg. "You're a girl
of spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George to
stay, stay he shall, as a favour to your sweet self."

The girl trembled.

"Who is master here?" she demanded, turning a full eye on her father.

Mullet laughed uneasily.

"This is business," he said, trying to speak lightly, "and women can't
understand it. Gunn is--is valuable to me, and George must go."

"Unless you plead for him, sweet one?" said Gunn.

The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away and
tapped on the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears,
she walked from the room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn held
the door for her.

"A fine girl," said Gunn, his thin lips working; "a fine spirit. 'Twill
be pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here."