upstairs into her little sitting-room.
"Ayala," she said, with something between a smile and a frown, "I am
afraid I am going to be angry with you."

"Please don't be angry, Lady Albury."

"If I am right in what I surmise, you had an offer made to you
yesterday which ought to satisfy the heart of almost any girl in
England." Here she paused, but Ayala had not a word to say for
herself. "If it was so, the best man I know asked you to share his
fortune with him."

"Has he told you?"

"But he did?"

"I shall not tell," said Ayala, proudly.

"I know he did. I knew that it was his intention before. Are you
aware what kind of man is my cousin, Jonathan Stubbs? Has it occurred
to you that in truth and gallantry, in honour, honesty, courage, and
real tenderness, he is so perfect as to be quite unlike to the crowd
of men you see?"

"I do know that he is good," said Ayala.

"Good! Where will you find any one good like him? Compare him to the
other men around him, and then say whether he is good! Can it be
possible that you should refuse the love of such a man as that?"

"I don't think I ought to be made to talk about it," said Ayala,
hesitating.

"My dear, it is for your own sake and for his. When you go away from
here it may be so difficult for him to see you again."

"I don't suppose he will ever want," said Ayala.

"It is sufficient that he wants it now. What better can you expect
for yourself?"

"I expect nothing," said Ayala, proudly. "I have got nothing, and I
expect nothing."

"He will give you everything, simply because he loves you. My dear,
I should not take the trouble to tell you all this, did I not know
that he is a man who ought to be accepted when he asks such a request
as that. Your happiness would be safe in his hands." She paused, but
Ayala had not a word to say. "And he is not a man likely to renew
such a request. He is too proud for that. I can conceive no possible
reason for such a refusal unless it be that you are engaged. If there
be some one else, then of course there must be an end of it."

"There is no one else."

"Then, my dear, with your prospects it is sheer folly. When the
General dies he will have over two thousand a year."

"As if that had anything to do with it!" said Ayala, holding herself
aloft in her wrath, and throwing angry glances at the lady.

"It is what I call romance," said Lady Albury. "Romance can never
make you happy."

"At any rate it is not riches. What y