"He does, Lady Jane. That is the misery of it." "You think he is not rich enough? He has his way to make? Or perhaps his friends?" "You are speaking of——?" "Mr. Anerley." "But all your conjectures are wrong, mother—all quite wrong. Indeed, I cannot explain it to you. I only know, mother, that I am very unhappy." "And you mean to marry Count Schönstein to revenge yourself——?" "I did not say I would marry Count Schönstein," said the girl, fretfully, "and I have nothing to revenge. I am very sorry, Lady Jane, to think of the sad troubles you have had, and you are very good to warn me; but I have not quarrelled with anybody, and I am not asked to wait in order to marry anybody, and——" Here she raised herself up, and the old bitter hard look came to the sad and gentle face. "——And if I should marry Count Schönstein, I shall disappoint no one, and break no promise. Before I marry Count Schönstein, he shall know what he may expect from me. I can give him my esteem, and confidence, and a certain amount of liking; and many people have lived comfortably on less. And you, mother, should be the last to say anything against an arrangement which would give you comfort, and relieve your mind from anxiety——" "And you have lived so long with me," said old Mother Christmas, reproachfully, "and you don’t know yet that sooner than let my comfort bring you to harm, Annie, or tempt you to a false step, I would twenty times rather beg my bread?" "Forgive me, mother!" said the girl, impetuously, "but I don’t know what I’ve been saying. Everything seems wrong, and cruel, and if I forget that you have been a mother to me, it is—it is because—I am—so miserable that——" And here the two women had a hearty cry together, which smoothed down their troubles for the present, and drew them closer to each other. CHAPTER XXIX. LEFT ALONE. "No," said Dove, blocking up the doorway with her slight little figure, as the waggonette was driven round, "neither of you stirs a step until you tell me where you are going." Will’s last injunction to his father had been, "Don’t let the women know." So the women did not know; and on this Monday morning both men were stealthily slipping away up to London when the heroic little Dove caught them in the act. "We are going to London, my dear," said Mr. Anerley. "On business," said Will. "Yes, on business!" said Dove, pouting. "I know what it is. You go into somebody’s office in the forenoon and talk a little; and then both of you go away and play billiards; then you dine at Will’s club or at a hotel, and then you go to the theatre." "Will has been telling tales," said Mr. Anerley. "And to-day of all days," continued the implacable Dove, "when you know very well, papa, and you needn’t try to deny it, that you promised to help me in getting down the last of the walnuts. No; neither of you shall stir this day; so you may as well send back the waggonette."