"I will write and ask them to come here," I said. I went down-stairs prepared to do this. I was thinking of the pleasure my letter would give to Hetty. How she would hurry her own and her husband's departure--how pretty and surprised she would look when she came to our luxurious new home--how nice it would be to dress her suitably, and make life sweet and pleasant to her. I was thinking these thoughts and forgetting all about the conditions of Cousin Geoffrey's will, when I went into the drawing-room to fetch my writing portfolio which I had left there on the previous evening. "Hey-day!" said a voice. I raised my eyes and found myself face to face with Mr Gray. "How do you do, Miss Rosamund?" he said, shaking my hand. "I judge from your own blooming appearance that your mother is much better." "Yes, she is much better," I replied. "What a wise girl you are, and were! How much I respect you! Now can you give me a few moments of your time?" "Yes," I replied. My "Yes" was uttered in a meek voice. The gladness had gone out of my face and manner. "Yes," I repeated, "my time is, of course, at your disposal, Mr Gray." "Well, let us sit here comfortably on this sofa. Miss Rosamund, I have been very considerate to you, have I not? I have not troubled you with word or message for a whole week." "I know it," I replied. "I know you have been kind." My eyes filled with tears. "It is a great wonder to me," began Mr Gray. He stopped abruptly. "I don't understand what girls are made of," he continued under his breath--"the very nicest fellow!--Miss Rosamund, please answer me one question. Do you greatly object to marrying your--your cousin?" "I am not bound to reply to you," I said. "I knew that I should have to marry my cousin if he were willing to have me when I wrote you that letter a week ago. I did it for my mother's sake." My tears were dropping. I felt dreadfully weak and childish. I hated myself for giving way to emotion in this fashion. "Yes, yes," said Mr Gray, patting my arm, "and you were a very plucky girl, Miss Rosamund, and you are going to have a happy--most happy life. Your cousin is a first-class fellow--_first-class_. I had the pleasure of communicating to him the contents of the will a few days ago, and he sends you a message now." "What--what is it?" I stammered. "He says you are to take your own time. He won't even come to see you unless you wish it. He had made all arrangements to go back to Africa, and he will go all the same unless you wish him to remain. It all rests with you, he says. Nothing could be more gentlemanly than his conduct." I sat very still, my eyes were fixed on the spring landscape outside the window. "There has been no--no letter, I suppose?" I said.