may I ask?"

Her small, pale face flushes angrily.

"I don't know, really; you should be the one to know."

His tone is so cold, so uncompromising, that she decides on coming
to terms for the present. Afterwards, when that girl has married
him, she will remember to some purpose, so far as _she_ is
concerned. There is a little tale that she can tell her.

"Dearest Maurice, how could I? I always fancied I treated her with
the utmost kindness. But why should we worry about it? No doubt it
was a mere girlish fancy, a distaste," playfully, "to the terrible
mamma-in-law of fiction. Such monsters do not exist now. She will
learn that by degrees. You will bring her to stay with me for awhile
on your return from your honeymoon?"

"If you desire it."

"Of course I shall desire it; then she and I will become great
friends. You are going? My love to your little _fiancée_, and say I
am so charmed, so delighted! And tell her I should like her to come
to me for a quiet little talk in the morning about eleven; I shall
have no one with me then but Marian."

"She shall not come to you, then," says Rylton. A dark red mounts to
his brow. What a diabolical thought--to receive those two together!
"Do you _hear?"_ says he imperiously.