know--ha,
ha!" Her ladyship laughed terribly. "I know that you have been meeting
that worthless young scamp, Tom Arundel!"

"Oh, aunt, he is not worthless--"

"Financially he isn't worth a sou--and that's what I mean, and don't
interrupt. I am your guardian, you are entirely in my charge, and until
you arrive at the age of twenty-five I can withhold your fortune from
you if you marry in opposition to me and my wishes. But you won't--you
won't do anything of the kind. You will marry the man I select for you,
the man I have already selected--what did you say, miss?

"And now, not another word. Hugh Alston is the man I have selected for
you. He is in love with you, there isn't a finer lad living. He has
eight thousand a year, and Hurst Dormer is one of the best old
properties in Sussex. So that's quite enough, and I don't want to hear
any more nonsense about Tom Arundel. I say nothing against him
personally. Colonel Arundel is a gentleman, of course, otherwise I would
not permit you to know his son; but the Arundels haven't a pennypiece to
fly with and--and now--Now I see Hugh coming up the drive. Leave me. I
want to talk to him. Go into the garden, and wait by the lily-pond. In
all probability Hugh will have something to say to you before long."

"Oh, aunt, I--"

"Shut up!" said her ladyship briefly.

Marjorie went out, with hanging head and bursting heart. She believed
herself the most unhappy girl in England. She loved; who could help
loving happy-go-lucky, handsome Tom Arundel, who well-nigh worshipped
the ground her little feet trod upon? It was the first love and the only
love of her life, and of nights she lay awake picturing his bright,
young boyish face, hearing again all the things he had said to her till
her heart was well-nigh bursting with love and longing for him.

But she did not hate Hugh. Who could hate Hugh Alston, with his cheery
smile, his ringing voice, his big generous heart, and his fine
manliness? Not she! But from the depths of her heart she wished Hugh
Alston a great distance away from Cornbridge.

"Hello, Hugh!" said her ladyship. He had come in, a man of
two-and-thirty, big and broad, with suntanned face and eyes as blue as
the tear-dimmed eyes of the girl who had gone miserably down to the
lily-pond.

Fair haired was Hugh, ruddy of cheek, with no particular beauty to boast
of, save the wholesomeness and cleanliness of his young manhood. He
seemed to bring into the room a scent of the