"Nevertheless," said Marson, stopping in his walk, "late as it is, Florry, if you think that you cannot make Jackson Spolger a good wife, I will break off the match without delay." "But that means ruin," cried Florry, tearfully. "Yes!" said Marson, curtly, "ruin." Florry sat thinking as deeply as her shallow little brain would allow her. She saw plainly that if she refused to marry Mr. Spolger, she would never gain her fathers consent to her marriage with Melstane, and as a refusal meant ruin without any chance of obtaining the wish of her heart, she did not see what was to be gained by being perverse. Shallow, frivolous, selfish as she was, she saw all this quite plainly, and, moreover, being too timid to brook her father's displeasure, she made up her mind to yield. Rising to her feet, she stole towards her father, as he stood in gloomy silence looking out on the wintry lawn, and threw her arms round his neck. "Papa," she whispered, "I will marry Mr. Spolger." "Of your own free will?" he asked, a trifle sternly. "Of my own free will," she repeated, steadily. "I am sorry for Sebastian, for I do love him; but I don't want to vex you, dearest, so I'll be awfully nice to Mr. Spolger and marry him next week." "My dearest," said Marson, in a tone of great relief, "you don't know how happy you have made me." "Florry," cried Judith, rolling up her work. "Yes, Judith," said Florry, leaving her father, and coming to her cousin. "You are quite sure you mean what you say?" asked Miss Varlins, looking at her steadily. "Quite sure." "No more tears or crying after Sebastian?" "Don't talk of Sebastian," said Florry, angrily. "I'll marry Mr. Spolger, and I dare say he'll make me happy." Judith said no more, but resumed her work with a sigh; but Mr. Marson, coming towards the fire, was about to speak, when the door opened and a footman announced: "Mr. Jackson Spolger." Chapter 8 Mr. Spolger Tells a Story