“I think you had better see my mother,” he replied, “else you will feel awkward in the morning.”

Then she opened the door for herself, and with frightened feet crept back to the drawing-room. She could hardly bring herself to open the second door; but when she had done so, her heart was greatly released, as, looking in, she saw that her aunt was the only person there.

“Well, Margaret,” said the old lady, walking up to her; “well?”

“Dear aunt, I don’t know what I am to say to you. I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to tell me you have consented to become John’s wife.”

“But I have not consented. Think how sudden it has been, aunt!”

“Yes, yes; I can understand that. You could not tell him at once that you would take him; but you won’t mind telling me.”

“I would have told him so in an instant, if I had made up my mind. Do you think I would wish to keep him in suspense on such a matter? If I could have felt that I could love him as his wife, I would have told him so instantly,—instantly.”

“And why not love him as his wife—why not?” Lady Ball, as she asked the question, was almost imperious in her eagerness.

“Why not, aunt? It is not easy to answer such a question as that. A woman, I suppose, can’t say why she doesn’t love a man, nor yet why she does. You see, it’s so sudden. I hadn’t thought of him in that way.”

“You’ve known him now for nearly a year, and you’ve been in the house with him for the last three weeks. If you haven’t seen that he has been attached to you, you are the only person in the house that has been so blind.”

“I haven’t seen it at all, aunt.”

“Perhaps you are afraid of the responsibility,” said Lady Ball.

“I should fear it certainly; but that alone would not deter me. I would endeavour to do my best.”

“And you don’t like living in the same house with me and Sir John.”

“Indeed, yes; you are always good to me; and as to my uncle, I know he does not mean to be unkind. I should not fear that.”

“The truth is, I suppose, Margaret, that you do not like to part with your money.”

“That’s unjust, aunt. I don’t think I care more for my money than another woman.”

“Then what is it? He can give you a position in the world higher than any you could have had a hope to possess. As Lady Ball you will be equal in all respects to your own far-away cousin, Lady Mackenzie.”

“That has nothing to do with it, aunt.”

“Then what is it?” asked Lady Ball again. “I suppose you have no absolute objection to be a baronet’s wife.”

“Suppose, aunt, that I do not love him?”

“Pshaw!” said the old woman.

“But it isn’t pshaw,” said Miss Mackenzie. “No woman ought to marry a man unless she feels that she loves him.”