“Ah, yes,” said the Squire, rather coldly, “a most unfortunate affair. Of course, I don’t know what the particulars of the matter were, and it is no business of mine, but speaking generally, I should say never bring an accusation of that sort against a man at all unless you are driven to it, and if you do bring it be quite certain of your ground. However, that is neither here nor there. Well, about this engagement. Ida is old enough to judge for herself, and seems to have made up her mind, so as I know no reason to the contrary, and as the business arrangements proposed are all that I could wish, I cannot see that I have any ground for withholding my consent. So all I can say, sir, is that I hope you will make my daughter a good husband, and that you will both be happy. Ida is a high-spirited woman; but in my opinion she is greatly above the average of her sex, as I have known it, and provided you have her affection, and don’t attempt to drive her, she will go through thick and thin for you. But I dare say you would like to see her. Oh, by the way, I forgot, she has got a headache this morning, and is stopping in bed. It isn’t much in her line, but I daresay that she is a little upset. Perhaps you would like to come up to dinner to-night?” This proposition Edward, knowing full well that Ida’s headache was a device to rid herself of the necessity of seeing him, accepted with gratitude and went. As soon as he had gone, Ida herself came down. “Well, my dear,” said the Squire cheerfully, “I have just had the pleasure of seeing Edward Cossey, and I have told him that, as you seemed to wish it——” Here Ida made a movement of impatience, but remembered herself and said nothing. “That as you seemed to wish that things should be so, I had no ground of objection to your engagement. I may as well tell you that the proposals which he makes as regards settlements are of the most liberal nature.” “Are they?” answered Ida indifferently. “Is Mr. Cossey coming here to dinner?” “Yes, I asked him. I thought that you would like to see him.” “Well, then, I wish you had not,” she answered with animation, “because there is nothing to eat except some cold beef. Really, father, it is very thoughtless of you;” and she stamped her foot and went off in a huff, leaving the Squire full of reflection. “I wonder what it all means,” he said to himself. “She can’t care about the man much or she would not make that fuss about his being asked to dinner. Ida isn’t the sort of woman to be caught by the money, I should think. Well, I know nothing about it; it is no affair of mine, and I can only take things as I find them.”