en."

"He was poor then. No one ever thought he would succeed with two lives
between. But it is different now that he is wealthy and in a position to
marry."

"He has never been in a position to marry me," said Magdalen, "because
he never cared enough for me to make an effort on my behalf. That was
not his fault. He mistook a romantic admiration for love, and naturally
found it would not work. How could it? It was not necessary to turn
heaven and earth to gain me. But it _was_ necessary to turn a few small
stones. He could not turn them."

"Well, at any rate, he asked you, and you accepted him."

"A hundred years ago."

"And you have waited for him ever since."

"Not at all. I am not waiting for him or for anyone."

"You would have married Mr. Grenfell if it had not been for Everard."

"Perhaps I should have married Everard if it had not been for Everard,"
said Magdalen.

It seemed as if nothing could shake her dispassionate view of the
matter.

"Your feelings were certainly engaged, Magdalen. There is no use in
denying that."

"Have I ever denied it?"

Aunt Mary was silent for a moment, but her under lip was ominously
thrust out. She was not thinking of what Magdalen had said. If she had
ever listened to the remarks of others when they differed from her, she
would not have become Lady Blore. She was only silent because she was
rallying her forces.

"A woman's hands become talons when they try to hold on to a man when he
wants to get away," said Magdalen gently.

Aunt Mary turned on her niece an opaque eye that saw nothing beyond the
owner's views.

"Something ought to be done," she said with emphasis. "After all, your
father dismissed him. I shall advise your father to write to him, and if
he does not--I shall write to him myself."

"I hope you will not do that," said Magdalen. "Do you remember what a
subject for gossip it was at the time? When father became angry with
Everard he told everyone, and it became a sort of loud turmoil. The
servants knew, the parish knew, the whole county knew that I had had a
disappointment. I have remained ever since in the eyes of the neighbours
a sort of blighted creature, a victim of the heartlessness of man. A new
edition of that old story now that my hair is grey would be, I think, a
little out of place. I had hoped----"

The door was suddenly thrown open, and Bessie marched into the room with
Aunt Aggie hanging nervously at her heels.

"I came back as quickl