‘You’ll have to wait till Mr. Piper asks you again,’ replied her father, delighted at having gained his point, but too diplomatic to show his satisfaction. ‘You’ve refused him once. He may not care to humiliate himself by risking a second refusal. However, the advertisement can stand over for a day or two, since you’ve come to your senses.’ Mr. Scratchell went off to his official den presently, and Mrs. Scratchell came over to Bella and hugged her. ‘Oh, my darling, it would be the making of us all,’ she exclaimed. ‘I don’t see what good that would be to me, mother, if I was miserable,’ Bella responded, sulkily. ‘But you couldn’t be miserable in such a home as Yafford Park, and with such a good man as Mr. Piper. It isn’t as if you had ever cared for anybody else, dear.’ ‘No, of course not,’ said Bella, full of bitterness. ‘That makes a difference.’ ‘And think what a lady you would be, and how high you could hold your head.’ ‘Yes, I would hold my head high enough, mother. You may be sure of that. I would have something out of life. Beatrix Harefield should see what use I could make of money.’ ‘Of course, dear. You have such aristocratic ideas. You could take the lead in Little Yafford society.’ Bella gave a scornful shrug. The society in Little Yafford was hardly worth leading; but Bella was of the temper that deems it better to reign in a village than to serve in Rome. She put on her bonnet and went to call upon Mrs. Dulcimer. That lady was in the garden, her complexion protected by a muslin sun-bonnet, washing the green flies off her roses. To her sympathetic ear Bella imparted the story of Mr. Piper’s wooing and the paternal wrath. ‘My dear, I don’t wonder that your father was angry,’ cried the Vicar’s wife. ‘Why, Mr. Piper is the very man for you. The idea occurred to me soon after Mrs. Piper’s death. But I didn’t mention it, for fear of alarming your delicacy. Such a good homely creature--an excellent husband to his first wife--and so wealthy. Why, you would be quite a little queen. How lucky I was mistaken about Cyril! What a chance you would have lost if you had married him!’ Bella shuddered. ‘Yes, it would have been a pity,’ she said. And then she thought how if Cyril had loved and married her, she--who was just wise enough to know herself full of faults--might have grown into a good woman--how, looking up at that image of perfect manhood, she might have learned to shape herself into ideal womanhood. Yes, it would have all been possible if he had only loved her. His love would have been a liberal education. Love had been denied her; but wealth, and all the advantages wealth could give, might be hers. ‘I really begin to think that I was very foolish to refuse Mr. Piper,’ she said. ‘My love, excuse me, but you were simply idiotic. However, he is sure to renew his offer. I shall call and see those dear children of his to-morrow. And when he asks you again, you will give him a kinder answer?’