'Oh, it was dreadful! I made the most rebellious speeches to poor grandmother, and then I remembered her affliction, and I asked her to forgive me, and just at the last she was ever so much kinder, and I think that she will let me marry you, now she knows I have made up my mind to be your wife--in spite of Fate.' 'My bravest and best.' 'And do you know, Jack'--she blushed tremendously as she uttered this familiar name--'I have made a discovery!' 'Indeed!' 'I find that I am to have five hundred a year when I am married. It is not much. But I suppose it will help, won't it? We can't exactly starve if we have five hundred a year. Let me see. It is more than a pound a day. A sovereign ought to go a long way in a small house; and, of course, we shall begin in a very wee house, like De Quincey's cottage over there, only in London.' 'Yes, dear, there are plenty of such cottages in London. In Mayfair, for instance, or Belgravia.' 'Now, you are laughing at my rustic ignorance. But the five hundred pounds will be a help, won't it?' 'Yes, dear, a great help.' 'I'm so glad.' She had chalked her cue while she was talking, but after taking her aim, she dropped her arm irresolutely. 'Do you know I'm afraid I can't play to-night,' she said. 'Helvellyn and the fog and the wind have quite spoilt my nerve. Shall we go to the drawing-room, and see if Fräulein has recovered from her gloomy fit?' 'I would rather stay here, where we are free to talk; but I'll do whatever you like best.' Mary preferred the drawing-room. It was very sweet to be alone with her lover, but she was weighed down with confusion in his presence. The novelty, the wonderment of her position overpowered her. She yearned for the shelter of Fräulein Müller's wing, albeit the company of that most prosaic person was certain death to romance. Miss Müller was in her accustomed seat by the fire, knitting her customary muffler. She had appropriated Lady Maulevrier's place, much to Mary's disgust. It irked the girl to see that stout, clumsy figure in the chair which had been filled by her grandmother's imperial form. The very room seemed vulgarised by the change. Fräulein looked up with a surprised air when Mary and Hammond entered together, the girl smiling and happy. She had expected that Mary would have left her ladyship's room in tears, and would have retired to her own apartment to hide her swollen eyelids and humiliated aspect. But here she was, after the fiery ordeal of an interview with her offended grandmother, not in the least crestfallen. 'Are we not to have any tea to-night?' asked Mary, looking round the room. 'I think you are unconscious of the progress of time, Lady Mary,' answered Fräulein, stiffly. 'The tea has been brought in and taken out again.' 'Then it must be brought again, if Lady Mary wants some,' said Hammond, ringing the bell in the coolest manner.