ear, there's something else I must tell you. I didn't see any
need to bother you with it before. It's this. Mr. Dick Guiseley proposed
to me when he was here for the shooting."

She paused, but her father said nothing.

"I told him he must wait--that I didn't know for certain, but that I was
almost certain. If he had pressed for an answer I should have said 'No.'
Oddly enough, I was thinking only yesterday that it wasn't fair to keep
him waiting any longer. Because ... because it's 'No' ... anyhow, now."

The Rector still could not speak. It was just one bewilderment. But
apparently Jenny did not want any comments.

"That being so," she went on serenely, "my conscience is clear, anyhow.
And I mustn't let what I think Mr. Dick might say or think affect
me--any more than the other things. Must I?"

"... Jenny, what are you going to do? Tell me!"

"Father, dear," came the high astonished voice, "I don't know. I don't
know at all. I must think. Did you think I'd made up my mind? Why! How
could I? Of course I should say 'No' if I had to answer now."

"I--" began the Rector and stopped. He perceived that the situation
could easily be complicated.

"I must just think about it quietly," went on the girl. "And I must
write a note to say so.... Father ..."

He glanced in her direction.

"Father, about being fond of a man.... Need it be--well, as I was fond
of Frank? I don't think Lord Talgarth could have expected that, could
he? But if you--well--get on with a man very well, understand him--can
stand up to him without annoying him ... and ... and care for him,
really, I mean, in such a way that you like being with him very much,
and look up to him very much in all kinds of ways--(I'm very sorry to
have to talk like this, but whom am I to talk to, father dear?) Well, if
I found I did care for Lord Talgarth like that--like a sort of daughter,
or niece, and more than that too, would that--"

"I don't know," said the Rector, abruptly standing up. "I don't know;
you mustn't ask me. You must settle all that yourself."

She looked up at him, startled, it seemed, by the change in his manner.

"Father, dear--" she began, with just the faintest touch of pathetic
reproach in her voice. But he did not appear moved by it.

"You must settle," he said. "You have all the data. I haven't. I--"

He stepped towards the door.

"Tell me as soon as you have decided," he said, and went out.

(III)

The little brown dog called Lam