Hazleton was surprised to see her re-enter the drawing-room with a
look of relief. She saw that the matter was decided, but she was too
wise to conclude that it was decided according to her wishes.

CHAPTER XXI.

Marlow reasoned with his own heart. For the first time in his life it
had proved rebellious. It would have its own way. It would give no
account of its conduct,--why it had beat so, why it had thrilled so, why
it had experienced so many changes of feeling when he saw John Ayliffe
sitting beside Emily Hastings, and when Emily Hastings had risen with so
joyous a smile to greet him--it would not explain at all. And now he
argued the point with it systematically, with a determination to get to
the bottom of the matter one way or another. He asked it, as if it had
been a separate individual, if it was in love with Emily Hastings. The
question was too direct, and the heart said it "rather thought not."

Was it quite sure? he asked again. The heart was silent, and seemed to
be considering. Was it jealous? he inquired. "Oh dear no, not in the
least."

Then why did it go on in such a strange, capricious, unaccountable way,
when a good-looking, vulgar young man was seen sitting beside Emily?

The heart said it "could not tell; that it was its nature to do so."

Marlow was not to be put off. He was determined to know more, and he
argued, "If it be your nature to do so, you of course do the same when
you see other young men sitting by other young women." The heart was
puzzled, and did not reply; and then Marlow begged a definite answer to
this question. "If you were to hear to-morrow that Emily Hastings is
going to be married to this youth, or to any other man, young or old,
what would you do then?"

"Break!" said the heart, and Marlow asked no more questions. Knowing how
dangerous it is to enter into such interrogations on horseback, when the
pulse is accelerated and the nervous system all in a flutter, he had
waited till he got into his own dwelling, and seated himself in his
chair, that he might deal with the rebellious spirit in his breast
stately, and calmly likewise; but as he came to the end of the
conversation, he rose up, resolving to order a fresh horse, and ride
instantly away, to confer with Sir Philip Hastings. In so doing he
looked round the room. It was not very well or very fully furnished. The
last proprietor before Mrs. Hazleton had not been very fond of books,
and had never thought of a library