The day of terrible anxiety made it a relief to Mary to have any certainty, though she was infinitely shocked at the tidings, which Louis conveyed to her at once. Mrs. Willis, whom Mr. Ward had sent to be her companion, went to her brother in the outer room, and left the lovers alone in the quadra, where Mary could freely express her grief and disappointment, her sorrow for the insult to her father, and her apprehensions for the poor fugitive herself, whom she loved enough to lament for exceedingly, and to recall every excuse that could be found in a wretched education, a miserable state of society, a childish mind, and religion presented to her in a form that did nothing to make it less childish. Mary's first recovery from the blow was shown by her remembering how fatigued and heated Louis must be, and when she had given orders for refreshment for him, and had thus resumed something of her ordinary frame, he sat looking at her anxiously, and presently said, 'And what will you do next, Mary!' 'I cannot tell. Mrs. Willis and Mrs. ---- have both been asking me very kindly to come to them, but I cannot let Mrs. Willis stay with me away from her children. Yet it seems hard on Mr. Ward that you should be coming to me there. I suppose I must go to Mrs. ----; but I waited to consult you. I had rather be at home, if it were right.' 'It may easily be made right,' quietly said Louis. 'How!' asked Mary. 'I find,' he continued, 'that the whole affair may be easily settled, if you will give me authority.' 'I thought I had given you authority to act in my name.' 'It might be simplified.' 'Shall I sign my name!' 'Yes--once--to make mine yours. If your claims are mine, I can take much better care of the Dynevor interest.' Mary rested her cheek on her hand, and looked at him with her grave steady face, not very much discomposed after the first glimpse of his meaning. 'Will you, Mary?' 'You know I will,' she said. 'Then there is no time to be lost. Let it be to-morrow. Yes'--going on in the quiet deliberate tone that made it so difficult to interrupt him--'then I could, in my own person, negotiate for the sale of the mines. I find there is an offer that Robson kept secret. I could wind up the accounts, see what can be saved for the Northwold people, and take you safe home by the end of a fortnight.' 'Oh, Louis!' cried Mary, almost sobbing, 'this will not do. I cannot entangle you in our ruinous affairs.' 'Insufficient objections are consent,' said Louis, smiling. 'Do you trust me, Mary?' 'It is of no use to ask.' 'You think I am not to be trusted with affairs that have become my own! I believe I am, Mary. You know I must do my utmost for the Dynevors; and I assure you I see my way. I have no reasonable doubt of clearing off all future liabilities. You mean to let me arrange?' 'Yes, but--' 'Then why not obviate all awkward situations at once?' 'My father! You should not ask it, Louis.'