"You're not, are you?" he pleaded. "Tell father you're not." I was so sorry for Hugh that I hardly thought of myself. I was benumbed. The suddenness of the attack had been like a blow from behind that stuns you without taking away your consciousness. In any case Mr. Brokenshire gave me no time, for he laughed gratingly. "She can't do that, my boy, because she is. Everybody knows it. I know it--and Ethel and Mildred and Cissie. They're all here and they can contradict me if I'm saying what isn't so." "But she may not know it herself," Mrs. Billing croaked. "A girl is often the last to make that discovery." "Ask her." Hugh obeyed, still clutching my wrist. "I'm asking you, little Alix. You're not, are you?" I could say nothing. Apart from the fact that I didn't knew what to say, I was dumbfounded by the way in which it had all come upon me. The only words that occurred to me were: "I think Mr. Brokenshire is ill." Oddly enough. I was convinced of that. It was the one assuaging fact. He might hate me, but he wouldn't have made me the object of this mad-bull rush if he had been in his right mind. He was not in his right mind; he was merely a blood-blinded animal as he went on: "Ask her again, Hugh. You're the only one she's been able to keep in the dark; but then"--his eyes followed his wife, who was still slowly retreating--"but then that's nothing new. She'll let you believe anything--till she gets you. That's always the game with women of the sort. But once you're fast in her clutches--then, my boy, look out!" I heard Pauline whisper, "Jack, for Heaven's sake, do something!" Once more Jack's hand was laid on his parent's arm, with his foolish "Say, dad--" Once more the restraining hand was shaken off. The cutting tones were addressed to Hugh: "You see what a hurry she's been in to be married, don't you? How many times has she asked you to do it up quick? She's been afraid that you'd slip through her fingers." He turned toward me. "Don't be alarmed, my dear. We shall keep our word. You've worked hard to capture the position, and I shall not deny that you've been clever in your attacks. You deserve what you've won, and you shall have it. But all in good time. Don't rush. The armies in Europe are showing us that you must intrench yourself where you are if you want, in the end, to push forward. You push a little too hard." Poor Hugh had gone white. He was twisting my wrist as if he would wring it off, though I felt no pain till afterward. "Tell me!" he whispered. "Tell me! You're--you're not marrying me for--for my money, are you?" I could have laughed hysterically. "Hugh, don't be an idiot!" came, scornfully, from Ethel Rossiter.