Annabel looked still more shocked. "Then I think it is very undutiful of you; very undutiful indeed! And especially after Papa earned a baronetcy for you, and left you such an ample provision for keeping it up. And that reminds me what a pity it is that Fay doesn't seem likely to have any children at present. It would save all this dreadful theatrical fuss and trouble if she had. I always think a baby is such a suitable diversion for a young married woman, besides being so nice to have some one to carry on the title." I felt that Annabel was becoming intolerable, so I bolted out of the drawing-room, banging the door behind me. She had rather affected the drawing-room of late in preference to the great hall, as Fay and Frank usually occupied the latter. Even now I can hardly bear to recall the happenings of that most miserable springtime, so I will retail them as briefly as possible. The more Annabel opposed Fay's having her own way, the more determined was I that Fay should have it; although--to confess the truth--I disliked that way, and feared its consequences, considerably more than my sister did. The memory of my dear mother's submission upheld me. I felt I had far sooner Fay despised my weakness than died of my wilfulness--even though that wilfulness were exercised solely for what Annabel and my father would have called "her own good." The Loxleys came down like a wolf on the fold, and the Manor was once again the scene of revelry by night, and a noisy bear-garden by day. I hated it all inexpressibly; but I fought for it as I would have fought for my life. Ever since that horrible time I have cherished the deepest pity for people who feel bound by a real (or mistaken) sense of duty to do battle for that which at the bottom of their hearts they hate. To them there is only one thing worse than defeat--and that is victory. Only once did I venture on a word of remonstrance with my darling. "Sweetheart," I said one day, when she had rushed into my library for some writing paper wherewith to supply the epistolary needs of the Loxley family: "I know how you are enjoying all this affair, and I wouldn't for worlds interfere with your pleasure: but don't you think that after this Play is over, you might rest from theatricals for a time?" The pretty scarlet mouth at once grew mutinous. "Oh, Reggie, don't be a tiresome kill-joy!" "I'm trying my best not to be," I answered meekly: "I'm not killing this joy: I'm letting it live out all its allotted days. I'm only suggesting that it shouldn't have a successor--at any rate, for the present." Fay tossed her curly head and stamped her foot. I could read Frank's influence in every insubordinate line of her. "I think it is very horrid of you to be so dreadfully bossy, and not to let Frank and me do as we like!"