It might be, of course, that he was only striving to overcome the prejudiced feeling against him; but every time the old soldier saw him with his granddaughter, he felt angry.
In point of fact, Aggie was disposed to like Richard, even before his arrival.

Six years had eradicated every tinge of animosity for that shove on the sand.

His letters had been long, bright, and amusing, and with the mementos of travel which he picked up in the ports of India and China, and from time to time sent home to his uncle, there was always a little box with some pretty trinket "for my cousin." She found him now a delightful companion.

He treated her as if she had been seventeen, instead of eleven; was ready to ride or walk with her, or to tell her stories of the countries he had seen, as she might choose; and to humour all her whims and fancies.
"Confound him and his pleasant manners!" the ex-sergeant would mutter to himself, as he watched them together, and saw, as he believed, in the distance, the overthrow of the scheme he had at heart.

"He is turning the child's head; and that foolish boy, James, is throwing away his chances." James, indeed, came home from school for the last time, two or three weeks after Richard Horton's return.