wered--'

'Oh, stop, mamma, I would not let it be, on any account.'

'No, my dear, I could not part with you where we were not sure the
'real thing' was felt for you. If he had been strongly bent on it, he
would have conducted matters differently; but he knows no better.'

'You and I don't part,' said Mary.

Neither spoke till she renewed her first question,

'What is to be done?'

'Shall I go and speak to him, my dear?'

'Perhaps I had better, if you will come with me.'

Then, hesitating--'I will go to my room for a moment, and then I shall
be able to do it more steadily.'

Mrs. Ponsonby's thoughts were anxious during the five minutes of Mary's
absence; but she returned composed, according to her promise, whatever
might be the throbbings beneath. As Mrs. Ponsonby opened the door, she
saw Louis and his aunt together, and was almost amused at their
conscious start, the youthful speed with which the one darted into the
further end of the corridor, and the undignified haste with which the
other hopped down stairs.

By the time they reached the drawing-room, he had recovered himself so
as to come forward in a very suitable, simple manner, and Mary said, at
once, 'Louis, thank you; but we think it would be better not--'

'Not!' exclaimed Fitzjocelyn.

'Not,' repeated Mary; 'I do not think there is that between us which
would make it right.'

'There would be!' cried Louis, gaining ardour by the difficulty, 'if
you would only try. Mrs. Ponsonby, tell her we would make her happy.'

'You would try,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, kindly; 'but I think she is right.
Indeed, Louis, you must forgive me for saying that you are hardly old
enough to make up your mind--'

'Madison is younger,' said Louis, boyishly enough to make her smile,
but earnestly proceeding, 'Won't you try me? Will you not say that if
I can be steady and persevering--'

'No,' said Mrs. Ponsonby; 'it would not be fair towards either of you
to make any conditions.'

'But if without them, I should do better--Mary, will you say nothing?'

'We had better not think of it,' said Mary, her eyes on the ground.

'Why? is it that I am too foolish, too unworthy?'

She made a great effort. 'Not that, Louis. Do not ask any more; it is
better not; you have done as your father wished--now let us be as we
were before.'

'My father will be very much disappointed,' said Louis, with chagrin.

'I will take care of your father,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, and as Mary to