“He’s old enough to be married,” said Mrs. Wheeler. “He’s told me all about you, he never has no secrets from ’is mother. He told me that he asked you to walk out with ’im last night and you said ‘No’; but I told ’im that that was only a gell’s way, and that you’d give ’im another answer soon.” “That was my final answer,” said Poppy Tyrell, the corners of her mouth hardening. “I shall never say anything else.” “All young gells say that at first,” said Mrs. Wheeler, making praiseworthy efforts to keep her temper. “Wheeler ’ad to ask me five times.” “I meant what I said,” said Poppy, stitching industriously. “I shall never change my mind.” “It’s early days to ask you perhaps, so soon after Captain Flower’s death,” suggested Mrs. Wheeler. “That has nothing at all to do with it,” said the girl. “I shall not marry your son, in any case.” “Not good enough for you, I suppose?” said the other, her eyes snapping. “In my time beggars couldn’t be choosers.” “They can’t choose much now,” said Poppy, in a low voice; “but as you know I’m going to a situation on Monday, I shall soon be able to pay off my debt to you: though, of course, I can’t repay you for your kindness in letting me live here when I had nowhere else to go.” “It isn’t me you owe it to,” said Mrs. Wheeler. “I’m sure I couldn’t ’ave afforded to do it whatever Wheeler liked to say if Bob hadn’t come forward and paid for you.” “Bob?” cried Poppy, springing to her feet and dropping her work onto the floor. “Yes, Bob,” said the other, melodramatically; “’im what isn’t good enough to be your husband.” “I didn’t know,” said the girl, brokenly; “you should have told me. I would sooner starve. I would sooner beg in the streets. I will go at once.” “I daresay you know where to go, so I sha’n’t worry about you,” replied Mrs. Wheeler. “You quiet ones are generally the worst.” “I am sorry,” murmured Poppy; “I did not mean to be rude, or ungrateful.” “You’re very kind,” said Mrs. Wheeler. “Is Mr. Fraser up in London?” “I’m sure I don’t know,” said the girl, pausing at the door. “Sure to be, though,” said Mrs. Wheeler, significantly; “you won’t ’ave to starve, my dear. But, there, you know that—some people’s pride is a funny thing.” Miss Tyrell regarded her for a moment in silence and then quitted the room, coming back again from half-way up the stairs to answer a knock at the door. She opened it slowly, and discovered to her horror Mr. Fraser standing upon the doorstep, with a smile which was meant to be propitiatory, but only succeeded in being uneasy. “Is that Mr. Fraser?” demanded Mrs. Wheeler’s voice, shrilly. “That’s me,” said Fraser, heartily, as he shook hands with Poppy and entered the room. “I thought you wouldn’t be far off,” said Mrs. Wheeler, in an unpleasant voice. “Poppy’s been expecting you.” “I didn’t know that Mr. Fraser was coming,” said Poppy, as the helpless man looked from one to the other. “I suppose he has come to see you. He has not come to see me.”