"Well, I wouldn't. And I do love her. But I want Alwynne on my terms. Do I sound an awful prig? Cousin Elsbeth, hear my way! I'm going to have it out with Alwynne." "At once?" "At once. As soon as I see her--no beating about the bush." "Roger--she may be utterly out of the mood." "Hang moods! I beg your pardon, Elsbeth. But I'm going to tell her--certain things. If she doesn't like it I'm going back to Dene. She'll know where to find me when she changes her mind. Elsbeth, don't look so hopeless." "You don't understand Alwynne." "I don't want to understand her--I want to marry her. I must stick to my own way. Can't you conceive that all this consideration, all this deference to moods and dissection of motives, this horribly feminine atmosphere that she seems to have lived in, of subtleties, and reservations, and simulations--may be bad for her? It seems to me that she's always being thought about. You, with your anxious affection--that unholy woman with her lancet and probe--you neither of you leave her alone for a second. She's always being touched. Well, I'm going to leave her alone. It gives her a chance." "I've never spoiled her." Elsbeth was off at a tangent. "I'm sure of it. I can remember Father holding you up to Mother once. He said you were the most judicious woman with children that he knew." "Did he?" said Elsbeth. "Mother was awfully annoyed." Roger chuckled. "I'd been bawling for my fourth doughnut--and got it." "I've never spoiled Alwynne," repeated Elsbeth tonelessly. "No one could," remarked Roger with conviction. Elsbeth looked up and laughed at him. "So you are human!" she said. "I was beginning to doubt it." "When I get on the subject of Alwynne's adorableness----" he laughed back at her, "we're obviously cousins, aren't we? But, really, I've been trying to be detached, and critical, and analytical, and all the things you feel are important. I wanted to see what you meant, Cousin Elsbeth; and I do see that we both want the same thing. But as to the means--I believe I must go my own way." She eyed him doubtfully. But he looked very big and solid in the little room, comfortingly sure of himself. "You think me a frantic old clucking hen, don't you? And are just a little sorry for the duckling." "I think you're a perfect dear," said Roger. "You'll come to-morrow? Alwynne will be back, I hope." "What time is she likely to turn up?" "About four, if she comes. She would lunch with Clare, I expect." He nodded whimsically. "Very well. To-morrow, at four precisely, there will be a row royal. To-morrow I am calling on Miss Hartill to fetch Alwynne home. Good-bye, Cousin Elsbeth." He turned again in the doorway. "Elsbeth, there's a house at Dene I've got my eye on. There's a turret room. My best roses will clamber right into it. That's to be yours. And Elsbeth! Nobody but you shall run the nursery."