On the next morning about eleven o'clock he came. She had become aware that it was the intention of all the family that she should see him alone, and she made no struggle against that intention. As such intention existed, the interview must of course take place, and as well now as later. There was no confidence on the matter between herself and her stepmother,--no special confidence between even herself and her half-sisters. But she was aware that they all supposed that Mr Owen was to come there on that morning for the sake of renewing his offer to her. It was soon done when he had come. "Isabel," he said, "I have brought with me that letter which you wrote to me. Will you take it back again?" And he held it out in his hand. "Nay; why should I take back my own letter?" she answered, smiling. "Because I hope--I do not say I trust--but I hope that I may receive an altered answer." "Why should you hope so?" she asked, foolishly enough. "Because I love you so dearly. Let me say something very plainly. If it be a long story, forgive me because of its importance to myself. I did think that you were--well, inclined to like me." "Like you! I always liked you. I do like you." "I hoped more. Perhaps I thought more. Nay, Isabel, do not interrupt me. When they told me that you were to be your uncle's heir, I knew that you ought not to marry me." "Why not?" "Well, I knew that it should not be so. I knew that your uncle would think so." "Yes, he thought so." "I knew that he would, and I accepted your answer as conveying his decision. I had not intended to ask the heiress of Llanfeare to be my wife." "Why not? Why not?" "I had not intended to ask the heiress of Llanfeare to by my wife," he said, repeating the words. "I learned last night that it was not to be so." "No; it is not to be so." "Then why should not Isabel Brodrick be the wife of William Owen, if she likes him,--if only she can bring herself to like him well enough?" She could not say that she did not like him well enough. She could not force herself to tell such a lie! And yet there was her settled purpose still strong in her mind. Having refused him when she believed herself to be rich, she could not bring herself to take him now that she was poor. She only shook her head mournfully. "You cannot like me well enough for that?" "It must not be so." "Must not? Why must not?" "It cannot be so." "Then, Isabel, you must say that you do not love me." "I need say nothing, Mr Owen." Again she smiled as she spoke to him. "It is enough for me to say that it cannot be so. If I ask you not to press me further, I am sure that you will not do so." "I shall press you further," he said, as he left her; "but I will leave you a week to think of it."