at on a low chair beside him. "Yes, dear
Philip, I know."

"And did you know too that he had promised me not to ask you to marry
him?"

Elizabeth started.

"No--not exactly. But perhaps--I guessed."

"He did then!" said Philip, wearily. "Of course I told him what I
thought of his wanting to marry you, in the Rockies; and he behaved
awfully decently. He'd never have said a word, I think, without my
leave. Well--now I've changed my mind!"

Elizabeth could not help smiling through her tears. With what merry
scorn would she have met this assertion of the _patria potestas_ from
the mouth of a sound brother! Her poor Philip!

"Dear old boy!--what have you been saying to Mr. Anderson?"

"Well!"--the boy choked a little--"I've been telling him that--well,
never mind!--he knows what I think about him. Perhaps if I'd known him
years ago--I'd have been different. That don't matter. But I want to
settle things up for you and him. Because you know, Elizabeth, you're
pretty gone on him, too!"

Elizabeth hid her face against his knee--without speaking. The boy
resumed:

"And so I've been telling him that now I thought differently--I hoped he
would ask you to marry him--and I knew that you cared for him--but
that he mustn't dream of taking you to Canada. That was all
nonsense--couldn't be thought of! He must settle here. You've lots of
money--and--well, when I'm gone--you'll have more. Of course Martindale
will go away from us, and I know he will look after mother as well
as you."

There was silence--till Elizabeth murmured--"And what did he say?"

The lad drew himself away from her with an angry movement.

"He refused!"

Elizabeth lifted herself, a gleam of something splendid and passionate
lighting up her small face.

"And what else, dear Philip, did you expect?"

"I expected him to look at it reasonably!" cried the boy. "How can he
ask a woman like you to go and live with him on the prairies? It's
ridiculous! He can go into English politics, if he wants politics. Why
shouldn't he live on your money? Everybody does it!"

"Did you really understand what you were asking him to do, Philip?"

"Of course I did! Why, what's Canada compared to England? Jolly good
thing for him. Why he might be anything here! And as if I wouldn't
rather be a dustman in England than a--"

"Philip, my dear boy! do rest--do go to bed," cried his mother
imploringly, coming into the room with her soft hurrying step. "It's
going on for one