Chapter 8

A BILLIONAIRE'S PLANS.

That morning, and many mornings both before and afterwards, were spent
by Laura at the New Hall examining the treasures of the museum, playing
with the thousand costly toys which Raffles Haw had collected, or
sallying out from the smoking-room in the crystal chamber into the long
line of luxurious hot-houses. Haw would walk demurely beside her as
she flitted from one thing to another like a butterfly among flowers,
watching her out of the corner of his eyes, and taking a quiet pleasure
in her delight. The only joy which his costly possessions had ever
brought him was that which came from the entertainment of others.

By this time his attentions towards Laura McIntyre had become so marked
that they could hardly be mistaken. He visibly brightened in her
presence, and was never weary of devising a thousand methods of
surprising and pleasing her. Every morning ere the McIntyre family
were afoot a great bouquet of strange and beautiful flowers was brought
down by a footman from the Hall to brighten their breakfast-table.
Her slightest wish, however fantastic, was instantly satisfied, if human
money or ingenuity could do it. When the frost lasted a stream was
dammed and turned from its course that it might flood two meadows,
solely in order that she might have a place upon which to skate.
With the thaw there came a groom every afternoon with a sleek and
beautiful mare in case Miss McIntyre should care to ride. Everything
went to show that she had made a conquest of the recluse of the New
Hall.

And she on her side played her part admirably. With female adaptiveness
she fell in with his humour, and looked at the world through his eyes.
Her talk was of almshouses and free libraries, of charities and of
improvements. He had never a scheme to which she could not add some
detail making it more complete and more effective. To Haw it seemed
that at last he had met a mind which was in absolute affinity with his
own. Here was a help-mate, who could not only follow, but even lead him
in the path which he had chosen.

Neither Robert nor his father could fail to see what was going forward,
but to the latter nothing could possibly be more acceptable than a
family tie which should connect him, however indirectly, with a man of
vast fortune. The glamour of the gold bags had crept over Robert
also, and froze the remonstrance upon his lips. It was very pleasant to
have the handling of all this wealth, even as a mere agent. Why should
he do or say what might disturb their present happy relations? It was
his sister's business, not his; and as to Hector Spurling, he must take
his chance as other men did. It was obviously best not to move one way
or the other in the matter.

But to