made up my mind! You sha'n't. I'll tell the
mother too. I'll frighten them all, till they can't bear the sight of
you."

Lady Johnstone was energetic, as well as original, in spite of her
abnormal size, and Brook knew that she was quite capable of carrying out
her threat, and more also.

"I may be like my father in some ways," he answered. "But I'm a good
deal like you too, mother. I'm rather apt to stick to what I like, you
know. Besides, I don't believe you would do anything of the kind. And
she isn't inclined to like me, as it is. I believe she must have heard
some story or other. Don't make things any worse than they are."

"Then don't lose your head and ask her to marry you after a fortnight's
acquaintance, Brook, because she'll accept you, and you will make her
perfectly wretched."

He saw that it was not always possible to argue with his mother, and he
said nothing more. But he reflected upon her point of view, and he saw
that it was not altogether unjust, as she knew him. She could not
possibly understand that what he felt for Clare Bowring bore not the
slightest resemblance to what he had felt for Lady Fan, if, indeed, he
had felt anything at all, which he considered doubtful now that it was
over, though he would have been angry enough at the suggestion a month
earlier. To tell the truth, he felt quite sure of himself at the present
time, though all his sensations were more or less new to him. And his
mother's sudden and rather eccentric opposition unexpectedly
strengthened his determination. He might laugh at what he called her
originality, but he could not afford to jest at the prospect of her
giving Clare an account of his life. She was quite capable of it, and
would probably do it.

These preoccupations, however, were as nothing compared with the main
point--the certainty that Clare would refuse him, if he offered himself
to her, and when he left his mother he was in a very undetermined state
of mind. If he should ask Clare to marry him now, she would refuse him.
But if his mother interfered, it would be much worse a week hence.

At last, as ill-luck would have it, he came upon her unexpectedly in the
corridor, as he came out, and they almost ran against each other.

"Won't you come out for a bit?" he asked quickly and in a low voice.

"Thanks--I have some letters to write," answered the young girl.
"Besides, it's much too hot. There isn't a breath of air."

"Oh, it's not really hot, you know," sa