larly silent ride, for
May never spoke a word the whole time and Sir George was ill at ease.
When they reached home May turned to Fielden.

"I hope you will excuse me a moment or two, Harry," she said. "I have
something to say to my father. It won't take many minutes. Perhaps you
will wait for us in the library. I think you will find everything you
want there."

Sir George stood nervously in the hall shuffling from one foot to
another. It seemed to take him a long time to get out of his overcoat.
He turned to May testily.

"Surely, there is nothing you have to say to me to-night," he said. "It
will keep till to-morrow."

Without reply May turned towards the drawing-room and Sir George
followed. He closed the door carefully behind him. She crossed to the
fireplace and stood facing her father. Her face was firm, though her
lips trembled slightly, and the task before her was by no means a
pleasant one.

"I hardly know how to begin," she said. "It is so difficult for me in my
unfortunate position. I have never ceased to regret the death of my
mother, but I cannot remember feeling the want of her so much as I do
now. I suppose you can guess what happened to-night. You know what Mr.
Copley said to me."

Sir George shook his head. His attempt to appear unconcerned was so
grotesque a failure that, in spite of her unhappiness, May could not
repress a smile.

"You are very transparent," she cried. "You make a bad conspirator,
father. You know perfectly well what happened to-night. You know why we
were asked to dine with Mr. Copley. He has done me the honour to ask me
to be his wife. Now don't pretend to be surprised, because Mr. Copley
had your full sanction; in fact, he told me he had discussed the matter
with you more than once."

"And you accepted him?" Sir George asked eagerly.

"We will come to that presently. Now let me ask you a question. Suppose
that your position was as good as it was twenty years ago, that there
were no mortgages on the estate. In that case, what would you have said
to Mr. Copley if he had expressed a wish to become your son-in-law? You
wouldn't have turned him out of the house, because we don't do things
like that. But your reply would have been no less unmistakable. You
would have made Mr. Copley feel the absurdity of his ambition. He would
never have been asked to come here again. Now isn't that so?"

Sir George shuffled about uneasily.

"Other times, other methods," he answered. "You