"Well, Eugene, you can scarcely wonder; you must own, you have tried her patience to the very uttermost," his cousin answered, smiling reproachfully; "but it is just the way with you men," she continued, as she scanned more closely the working of Eugene's countenance, "you would keep us waiting till doomsday to serve your own convenience, without one scruple of concern; but if we begin to show any disposition to be off, then you are, forsooth, the injured and aggrieved; well, however, is it not as well? What profit or pleasure can such an engagement be to you, who year after year seem no nearer the end than at the beginning? and as for your father, I believe he's 'the never-dying one.'" "But, Olivia, matters have lately taken a different aspect," her cousin muttered, gloomily, "my father is urging me to marry, and would do anything to further it. I would marry her to-morrow, if it could only be managed." "Well, why not tell her so. I suppose it was only the apparent hopelessness of the case which induced her to give you up--tell her at once." "I did tell her when I saw her last--more, I pressed an immediate marriage urgently upon her; but," with a bitter laugh, "the idea has become so repugnant to her feelings, that she absolutely fainted with horror and aversion." "Nonsense, Eugene, from joy most likely." "Joy, indeed--and that letter she wrote after. Oh, no! she has taken it into her head that I am a villain, and--" Mrs. de Burgh laughed. "A villain," she repeated, "not quite so bad as that I hope, though not very good I am afraid. A villain! no, we must manage to get that idea at least out of the young lady's head." "But how?" Eugene asked. "Why, really, I don't know; let me see--I will write to her--though letters are not worth much. I wish, indeed, I could get her here away from her relations, who are all such terribly good people." Eugene Trevor drew his chair eagerly forward. "What here, do you really mean it--do you think it possible--that there would be any chance of her consenting to come?" "I do not see why it should be impossible--at any rate we can try, and I flatter myself I am not a little clever about these sort of things. Oh, depend upon it, poor girl, she will only be too glad to be persuaded into loving you again. But then, Eugene, I must be sure that you really are in earnest--that the affair will be really brought to a decided issue, before I move again in the business. I burnt my fingers too severely with it before, and brought upon myself quite sufficient odium. What does Mary say in her letter? I must be quite _au fait_ in the business, you know, and understand what I am about." "You shall know everything," said Eugene, approaching nearer, and subduing his tone to a confidential whisper. "It is a more complicated matter than you suppose. There is one very serious point to be dealt with: you will be surprised when you hear that it relates to my unlucky brother."