f up as though about to declare in his pride that he
had not intended to ask for the hand of the lady of Llanfeare. "That
would make no difference in me," she continued, reading plainly
the expression in the young man's face. "My regard would be swayed
neither one way nor the other by any feeling of that kind. But as he
has chosen to make me his daughter, I must obey him as his daughter.
It is not probable that he will consent to such a marriage."

Then there had been nothing further between them till Isabel, on her
return to Llanfeare, had written to him to say that her uncle had
decided against the marriage, and that his decision was final.

Now in all this Isabel had certainly been hardly used, though her
ill-usage had in part been due to her own reticence as to her own
feelings. When she told the Squire that the offer had been made to
her, she did so as if she herself had been almost indifferent.

"William Owen!" the Squire had said, repeating the name; "his
grandfather kept the inn at Pembroke!"

"I believe he did," said Isabel calmly.

"And you would wish to make him owner of Llanfeare?"

"I did not say so," rejoined Isabel. "I have told you what occurred,
and have asked you what you thought."

Then the Squire shook his head, and there was an end of it. The
letter was written to the minor canon telling him that the Squire's
decision was final.

In all this there had been no allusion to love on the part of Isabel.
Had there been, her uncle could hardly have pressed upon her the
claims of his nephew. But her manner in regard to the young clergyman
had been so cold as to leave upon her uncle an impression that the
matter was one of but little moment. To Isabel it was matter of
infinite moment. And yet when she was asked again and again to
arrange all the difficulties of the family by marrying her cousin,
she was forced to carry on the conversation as though no such person
existed as her lover at Hereford.

And yet the Squire remembered it all,--remembered that when he had
thus positively objected to the grandson of the innkeeper, he had
done so because he had felt it to be his duty to keep the grandson of
an innkeeper out of Llanfeare. That the grandson of old Thomas Owen,
of the Pembroke Lion, should reign at Llanfeare in the place of
an Indefer Jones had been abominable to him. To prevent that had
certainly been within his duties. But it was very different now, when
he would leave his girl poorly provide