Madame De Vigne shook her head. ‘You are far too sanguine. Sir William knows already what it is you want him to do. He knew it before, when—when’—— ‘When he sent Colonel Woodruffe as his plenipo. to negotiate terms with the enemy—meaning you,’ said Archie, with a laugh. ‘A pretty ambassador the colonel made!’ Madame De Vigne, who had risen and was gazing out of the window again, did not answer for a little while. At length she said: ‘Archie, while there is yet time, before you see your father to-morrow, I beg of you once more seriously to consider the position in which you will place yourself by refusing to break off your engagement with my sister. That Sir William will sanction your marriage with Clarice, I do not for one moment believe. What father in his position would?’ Archie, when he burst into the room, had omitted to close the door behind him. It was now pushed a little further open, and, unperceived by either of the others, Clarice, dressed for walking, stepped into the room. ‘Naturally, he must have far higher, far more ambitious views for his only son,’ continued Madame De Vigne. ‘As the world goes, he would be greatly to blame if he had not. So, Archie,’ she said, as she took both his hands in hers, ‘when you leave us to-night, I wish you clearly to understand that you go away unfettered by a tie or engagement of any kind. You go away as free and untrammelled as you were that sunny afternoon when you first set eyes on my sister. I speak both for Clarice and myself.’ Here Clarice came quickly forward. ‘Yes—yes, dear Archie, that is so,’ she exclaimed. ‘You are free from this hour. I—I shall never cease to think of you, but that won’t matter to any one but myself.’ ‘Upon my word, I’m very much obliged to both of you,’ answered Archie, who was now holding a hand of each. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or be angry. A nice, low, mean opinion you must have formed of Archie Ridsdale, if you think he’s the sort of fellow to act in the way you suggest.’ Then turning to Clarice, he said: ‘Darling, when you first told me that you loved me, you believed me to be a poor man—poor in pocket and poor in prospects. That made no difference in your feelings towards me. There was then no question of a rich father coming between us—and I vow that neither he nor any one else in the world _shall_ come between us! I love and honour my father as much as any son can do; but this is one of those supreme questions which each man must decide for himself.’ ‘I have said my say—the raven has croaked its croak,’ said Madame De Vigne with a little shrug, as she crossed to the other side of the room. ‘You are a wilful, headstrong boy, and I suppose you must be allowed to ruin yourself in your own way.’