Hugo, for the present, was quiet. He was in Guernsey with his people, and beyond a letter in which he directly accused Peter Ledgard of abducting Tony when his father was taking him to visit his grandparents, Jan had heard nothing. By Peter's advice she did not answer this letter. But they both knew that Hugo was only waiting to make some other and more unpleasant demonstration than the last. "You see," Jan began again, "I've got so many people to think of. The children and Meg and the house and all the old servants.... You mustn't hustle me, dear." "Yes, I see all that; but I've got _you_ to think of, and if we're married and anything happens to me you'll get your pension, and I want you to have that." "And if anything happened to me, you'd be saddled with the care of two little children who've got a thoroughly unsatisfactory father, who can always make life hateful for them and for you. No, Peter, it wouldn't be fair--we must wait and see how things work out." "At present," Peter said gloomily, "it looks as if things were working out to a fair bust-up all round." This was on the 30th of July. Peter went up to London, intending to return on the first to stay over the Bank Holiday, but he did not come. He wanted to be within easy reach of recalling cablegram. Meg got a wire from Miles on Saturday: "Try to come up for to-morrow and Monday I can't leave town must see you." And half an hour after it, came a note from Squire Walcote, asking her to accept his escort, as he and Lady Mary were going up to the Grosvenor, and hoped Meg would be their guest. It was during their stay in London that Lady Mary and the Squire got the greatest surprise of their whole lives. Miles, looking bigger than ever in uniform, rushed in and demanded an interview with Meg alone in their private room. He showed her a special licence, and ordered, rather than requested, that she should marry him at once. "I can't," she said, "it's no use asking me ... I _can't_." "Listen; have you any objection to me?" Meg pulled a little away from him and pretended to look him up and down. "No ... in fact ... I love every bit of you--especially your boots." "Have you thought how likely it is that I may not come back ... if there's war?" "Don't!" said Meg. "Don't put it into words." "Then why won't you marry me, and let me feel that, whether I'm killed or not, I've had the thing I wanted most in this world?" "Dear, I can't help it, but I feel if I married you now ... you would never come back ... but if I wait ... if I don't try to grasp this wonderful thing too greedily ... it will come to us both. I _daren't_ marry you, Miles." "Suppose I'm all smashed up ... I couldn't ask you then ... suppose I come back minus an arm or a leg, or blind or something?" "If the least little bit of you comes back, I'll marry that; not you or anyone else could stop me then." "You'd make it easier all round if you'd marry me now...."