Mary had taken refuge in her room, where a great shower of tears would have their course, though she scolded herself all the time. 'Have done! have done! It is best as it is. He does not really wish it, and I could not leave mamma. We will never think of it again, and we will be as happy as we were before.' Her mother, meanwhile, was waiting below-stairs, thinking that she should spare Louis something, by taking the initiative in speaking to his father; and she was sorry to see the alacrity with which the Earl came up to her, with a congratulatory 'Well, Mary!' She could hardly make him comprehend the real state of the case; and then his resignation was far more trying than that of the party chiefly concerned. Her praise of Fitzjocelyn had little power to comfort. 'I see how it is,' he said, calmly: 'do not try to explain it away; I acquiesce--I have no doubt you acted wisely for your daughter.' 'Nothing would have delighted me more, if he were but a few years older.' 'You need not tell me the poor boy's failings,' said his father, sadly. 'It is on account of no failing; but would it not be a great mistake to risk their happiness to fulfil our own scheme?' 'I hoped to secure their happiness.' 'Ay, but is there not something too capricious to find happiness without its own free will and choice? Did you never hear of the heart?' 'Oh! if she be attached elsewhere'--and he seemed so much relieved, that Mrs. Ponsonby was sorry to be obliged to contradict him in haste, and explain that she did not believe Fitzjocelyn's heart to be yet developed; whereupon he was again greatly vexed. 'So he has offered himself without attachment. I beg your pardon, Mary; I am sorry your daughter should have been so treated.' 'Do not misunderstand me. He is strangely youthful and simple, bent on pleasing you, and fancying his warm, brotherly feeling to be what you desire.' 'It would be the safest foundation.' 'Yes, if he were ten years older, and had seen the world; but in these things he is like a child, and it would be dangerous to influence him. Do not take it to heart; you ought to be contented, for I saw nothing so plainly as that he loves nobody half so well as you. Only be patient with him.' 'You are the same Mary as ever,' he said, softened; and she left him, hoping that she had secured a favourable audience for his son, who soon appeared at the window, somewhat like a culprit. 'I could not help it!' he said. 'No; but you may set a noble aim before you--you may render yourself worthy of her esteem and confidence, and in so doing you will fulfil my fondest hopes.' 'I asked her to try me, but they would make no conditions. I am sorry this could not be, since you wished it.' 'If you are not sorry on your own account, there are no regrets to be wasted on mine.' 'Candidly, father,' said Louis, 'much as I like her, I cannot be sorry to keep my youth and liberty a little longer.'