To my intense surprise, however, Lady Georgina flung herself on my bed, and burst into tears. 'My dear,' she sobbed out, covering her face with her hands, 'I thought you would be sure to set your cap at Harold; and after I had seen you for twenty-four hours, I said to myself, "That's just the sort of girl Harold ought to fall in love with." I felt sure he would fall in love with you. I brought you here on purpose. I saw you had all the qualities that would strike Harold's fancy. So I had made up my mind for a delightful regulation family quarrel. I was going to oppose you and Harold, tooth and nail; I was going to threaten that Marmy would leave his money to Kynaston's eldest son; I was going to kick up, oh, a dickens of a row about it! Then, of course, in the end, we should all have been reconciled; we should have kissed and made friends: for you're just the one girl in the world for Harold; indeed, I never met anybody so capable and so intelligent. And now you spoil all my sport by going and refusing him! It's really most ill-timed of you. And Harold has sent me here--he's trembling with anxiety--to see whether I can't induce you to think better of your decision.' I made up my mind at once. 'No, Lady Georgina,' I said, in my gentlest voice--positively stooping down and kissing her. 'I like Mr. Tillington very much. I dare not tell you how much I like him. He is a dear, good, kind fellow. But I cannot rest under the cruel imputation of being moved by his wealth and having tried to capture him. Even if _you_ didn't think so, his family would. I am sorry to go; for in a way I like you. But it is best to adhere to our original plan. If _I_ changed my mind, _you_ might change yours again. Let us say no more. I will go to-morrow.' 'But you will see Harold again?' 'Not alone. Only at dinner.' For I feared lest, if he spoke to me alone, he might over-persuade me. 'Then at least you will tell him where you are going?' 'No, Lady Georgina; I do not know myself. And besides, it is best that this should now be final.' She flung herself upon me. 'But, my dear child, a lady can't go out into the world with only two pounds in pocket. You _must_ let me lend you something.' I unwound her clasping hands. 'No, dear Lady Georgina,' I said, though I was loth to say it. 'You are very sweet and good, but I must work out my life in my own way. I have started to work it out, and I won't be turned aside just here on the threshold.' 'And you won't stop with me?' she cried, opening her arms. 'You think me too cantankerous?' 'I think you have a dear, kind old heart,' I said, 'under the quaintest and crustiest outside such a heart ever wore; you're a truculent old darling: so that's the plain truth of it.' She kissed me. I kissed her in return with fervour, though I am but a poor hand at kissing, for a woman. 'So now this episode is concluded,' I murmured.