"Ah, but you are not my wife, my dear, that makes all the difference. The immaculate creature whom I honor with my regard must be made aware that she is marrying a man with a hobby. Why," finished Garth, with a sudden glow of strong feeling on his face, "it must destroy the very nature and meaning of things not to feel that your wife is dependent upon you for everything." How well Queenie recalled this conversation. How truly it spoke of the nature of the man--his sturdy independence, his pride and love of authority, and also of the tenderness that loved to shield and protect. Garth always cared most for what was dependent on him; feminine self-reliance seldom pleased him. Queenie's independence was simply owing to circumstances; she was strong-minded and yet not self-asserting; her force of will seldom came to the surface. In every-day life, amongst those who loved her, she was singularly submissive and yielding, and from the first she had placed implicit trust in Garth Clayton, in a way that had touched him to the heart. A bitter reflection crossed her mind now--Garth was good to her; he had in a way taken her under his protection, and was showing her much brotherly kindness; would he not lose interest in her now she was rich? Queenie remembered how coldly he had talked of a certain school friend of Langley's, a young heiress, who had lately settled some miles from Hepshaw. Langley had once or twice proposed driving over to see her, but Garth had always negatived the notion. "Caroline is such a good creature," Langley would say; "she is not pretty, but thoroughly nice, and so bright." "Then go over, by all means, and see her, my dear; but I must ask you to excuse me from accompanying you." And when Cathy had pressed him, he had seemed put out, and had muttered, "that he had something better to do than to run after girls all day, especially when they were heiresses." Queenie thought of all this with a certain dismay and sinking of heart. She was an heiress herself, and he disliked heiresses. Perhaps, when he knew that, his manner would change; it would become cooler and more distant. How could she ever bring herself to bear that? The thought of the cottage became every moment dearer. He was furnishing it for her now. He and Langley had been up to the sale, but the whole business had been kept a secret from her. "You know you are to leave all these details to me," he had remarked casually on his return. Queenie was quite aware how often Cathy and Langley were closeted with him in his study. Cathy would come out from these interviews very round-eyed and mysterious, and with an air of importance that amused Queenie. She had a notion once or twice that the pile of new towels and dusters in Langley's basket were not for the use of the inhabitants of Church-Stile House; but she dared not inquire the truth.