“Dick, that was my opportunity. I could not help it—I burst out with everything. I told mother all about my great, great passionate love for you. She was so kind to me, and so relieved about her money affairs, that she consented to my becoming engaged to you. “She even said she thought Dr. Tarbot would like it. Just imagine it, Dick! Could you for a moment have believed that it was in that man to be so generous? Oh, how bitterly I have misjudged him! I should like to go on my knees to him. “Well, mother told me I must write to you early this morning, and ask you to stay to lunch, and we can be engaged now before all the world. As soon as you have a little home for me, Dick, however humble, I will come to it with delight.” To this exciting narrative Pelham made short replies. He said he was very glad, but his enthusiasm with regard to Tarbot was not what the girl had expected. On the contrary, whenever Tarbot’s name was mentioned Pelham’s face became grave and stern. “What is the matter, Dick?” said Barbara at last. “Why do you look like that?—you have such a queer expression in your eyes.” “Have I, Barbara? I ought to have a delighted expression—the thought of winning you is enough to make any man happy.” “But are you not grateful to Dr. Tarbot?” “Don’t question me. I have an unreasonable—no, perhaps it is not unreasonable—but I have a very strong dislike to him.” “Surely that is unkind. I own, until yesterday I quite shared your feeling, but how can I think it any longer? I almost believe that I could love him. At least I must tell him how very grateful I am for what he has done.” Pelham looked stern. “Dick, what is the matter?” “Don’t say too much about him, Barbara. I must tell you plainly that I do not like this. It seems to me as if I owed you to Tarbot’s action. It all sounds very generous, but then you are not behind the scenes. I don’t want to be in debt to Tarbot for anything. Oh, there, there, dear,” for Barbara’s face had clouded and then became very white. “It is all right now, and it _is_ a blessed relief, and we’ll be married as soon as we can, little woman. I was attending to my first brief when your fascinating little note arrived. “I rushed off to you, of course, for what are briefs to me when you want me? But now I shall attend to business with a will. I have about three hundred a year of my own—a mere nothing, of course—but we might be married in the autumn. We could begin in a small way, and hope for the time when I shall earn enough to give you the comforts you ought to have, my darling.” “I don’t want comforts, or luxuries,” said Barbara. “I just want to be with you. Yes, we’ll be married in the autumn, Dick. I don’t wish to wait. I don’t care how poor you are. Oh, that is mother’s step. Now, Dick darling, be kind to her, she has gone through a great deal. Money troubles are enough to take the heart out of any one. Be very nice to her, dearest. Be as grateful as you can.”