_Would_ she win him? Mildred returned to her seat, and worked on at the cambric frill, the question running riot in her brain. A conviction within her--a prevision, if you will--whispered that it would be a marriage particularly distasteful to Mr. and Mrs. Arkell. _They_ did not yet dream of it, and would have been thankful to have their eyes opened to the danger. Mildred knew this; she saw it as clearly as though she had read it in a book; but she was too honourable to breathe it to them. When the frill was finished, she folded it up, and told her aunt she would take her departure; Peter had talked of going out after banking hours with a friend, and her mother, who was not well, would be alone. Mrs. Arkell made but a faint resistance to this: Mildred came and went pretty much as she liked. Peter, however, was at home when she got there, sitting over the fire in the dusk, in a thoughtful mood. On two afternoons in the week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, the bank closed at four; this was Thursday, and Peter had come straight home. Mildred took her seat at the table, against five o'clock should strike, the signal for their young maid-servant to bring the tea-tray in. It was quite dark outside, and the room was only lighted by the fire. "What are you thinking of, Peter?" Mrs. Dan presently broke the silence by asking. Peter took his chin from his hand where it had been resting, and his eyes from the fire, and turned his head to his mother. "I was thinking of a proposal Colonel Dewsbury made to me to-day," he answered; "deliberating upon it, in fact, and I think I have decided." This was something like Greek to Mrs. Dan; even Mildred was sufficiently aroused from her thoughts to turn to him in surprise. "The colonel wants me to go to his house in an evening, mother, and read the classics with his eldest son." "Peter!" "For about three hours, he says, from six till nine. He will give me a guinea a week." "But only think how you slave and fag all day at that bank," said Mrs. Dan, who in her ailing old age thought work (as did Charlotte Travice) the greatest evil of life. "And only think what a many additional comforts a guinea a week could purchase for you, mother," cried Peter in his affection; "our house would be set up in riches then." "Peter, my dear," she gravely said, "I do not suppose I shall be here very long; and for comforts, I have as many as I require." "Well, put it down to my own score, if you like," said Peter, with as much of a smile as he ever attempted; "I shall find the guinea useful." "But if you thus dispose of your evenings, what time should you have for your books?" resumed Mrs. Arkell. "I'll make that; I get up early, you know; and in one sense of the word, I shall be at my books all these three hours." "How came Colonel Dewsbury to propose it to you?"