"They are not due to me," was her answer, delivered with cold equanimity. "My father tells me I must marry you, and I accede to it." "May God enable me to reward you for the confidence you repose in me!" he whispered. "If it be given to man to love a wife as one never yet was loved, may it be given to me!" She twisted her hand from him with an ungracious movement, for he would have retained it, and walked deliberately across the room, leaving him where he stood, and rang the bell. "Tell mamma Mr. Grubb is here," she said to the servant. He felt pained: he understood this had been an accorded interview. Like all other lovers, he began to speak of the future--of his hope that she would learn to love him. "There should be no misunderstanding between us on this point," she hastily answered; and could it be that there was _contempt_ in her tone? "I have agreed to be your wife; but, until a day or two ago, the possibility of my becoming so had never been suggested to me. Therefore, the love that I suppose ought to accompany this sort of contract is not mine to offer." How wondrously calm she spoke--in so matter-of-fact, business-like a way! It struck even him, infatuated though he was. "It may come in time," he whispered. "My love shall call forth yours; my----" "I hear mamma," interrupted Adela, drawing away from him like a second cruel Barbara Allen. "Adela, where's your town house to be?" began one of the girls to her when they got into the drawing-room after dinner, the earl and Mr. Grubb being still at table. "Not in the smoky City, surely!" "His house is not in the City; it's in Russell Square," corrected another. "Of course he won't take her _there!_" "Ada, mind which opera-box you secure. Let it hold us all." "Of course you'll be smothered in diamonds," suggested Lady Mary. "One good thing will come of this wedding, if nothing else does: mamma must get us new things, and plenty of them." "I wonder whether he will give us any ornaments? He is generous to a fault. Is he not, Adela?" "How you tease!" was Adela's languid rejoinder. "Go and ask him." "I protest, Adela, if you show yourself so supremely indifferent he will declare off before the wedding-day." "And take one of you instead. I wish he would." "No fear. Ada's chains are bound fast about him. One may see how he loves her." "Love!" cried Adela. "It is perfectly absurd--from him to me. But it is the way with those plebeians."