"Oh, I had a reason for keeping our engagement secret, but it is no longer necessary, and to-day--at this moment--I am going straight to ask your mother to give me this dear hand in marriage. If she consents, we will soon get rid of Dido." "But my mother may not consent," said Isabella, a trifle nervously. "Why not? I have a profession and a small property. We love one another dearly, so I don't see what grounds she has for refusal." "Dido!" "Well, Dido can do nothing," said Maurice, in a jesting tone, "unless you want her to forbid the banns." "She may even be able to do that," replied Isabella, seriously. "My mother is afraid of her, and is often influenced in her decisions by Dido." "What, the black witch? Bah! She is only a servant." "She is something more than that in Barbadoes." "Oh, you mean that Obi rubbish, my dearest," said Maurice, slipping his arm round the slender waist of the girl. "It is on that very account that I wish to tell your mother of our engagement, for I must rescue you from the influence of that dark Jezebel. She is dangerous." "I know she is; but she hates you." "I don't care for her hate," replied Maurice, carelessly. "It is a poor thing, and can not possibly harm me. But I mean to extricate you from her toils, and I don't care how she attempts to prevent our marriage. Surely Mrs. Dallas will not let herself be guided in so important a business by the will and feelings of that black wench." "My mother is weak where Dido is concerned," said Isabella, shaking her head. "And so are you, my dear," responded Maurice, kissing her. "Both of you are weak and have yielded up your wills to that woman. But the announcement of our engagement will give me some influence in the house and do away with all that. It will be a fight between white and black magic, and I, as a civilized wizard, intend to win." "Why do you particularly wish to announce our engagement to-day?" Maurice grew serious, and paused at the top of the drive, just out of sight of the house, to reply to this question. "My dear child," he said slowly, "I kept our engagement secret on account of David. I have seen for a long time that he loves you, and knowing his fiery temper, I did not wish to provoke a quarrel by telling him that you had promised to be my wife. But last night the truth was forced from me at dinner, and David declared that he intended to ask you to marry him." "But I don't love him. I love you!" "I knew that, but he didn't. He knows now that we love one another, but he is ignorant that we are engaged. When the fact is publicly announced, he may give up his idea of marrying you, and so a quarrel may be averted." "Are you afraid of quarreling with him?" "Yes. Not on my account, but it distresses our good major to see us at variance. We nearly quarreled over you last night, though, upon my word," added the young man half to himself, "I believe Etwald promoted the row." "Etwald!" repeated Isabella. "Dr. Etwald?"