Pete was talking with great eagerness. “Plenty of house, aw plenty, plenty,” he was saying. “Elm Cottage they're calling it--the slate one with the ould fir-tree behind the Coort House and by the lane to Claughbane. Dry as a bone and clane as a gull's wing. You could lie with your back to the wall and ate off the floor. Taps inside and water as white as gin. I've been buying the cabin of the 'Mona's Isle' for a summer-house in the garden. Got a figurehead for the porch too, and I'll have an anchor for the gate before I'm done. Aw, I'm bound to have everything nice for her.” There was a short silence, in which nothing was heard but the step of the horse, and then Philip said in a faltering voice, “But isn't this being rather in a hurry, Pete?” “Short coorting's the best coorting, and ours has been long enough anyway,” said Pete. They had drawn up at the porch, and Pete's laugh came in at the window. “But think how weak she is,” said Philip. “She hasn't even-left her bed yet, has she?” “Well, yes, of coorse, sartenly,” said Pete, in a steadier voice, “if the girl isn't fit----” “It's so sudden, you see,” said Philip. “Has she--has she--consented?” “Not to say consented----” began Pete; and Philip took him up and said quickly, eagerly, hotly-- “She can't--I'm sure she can't.” There was silence again, broken only by the horse's impatient pawing, and then Philip said more calmly, “Let Dr. Mylechreest see her first, at all events.” “I'm not a man for skinning the meadow to the sod, no----” said Pete, in a doleful tone; but Kate heard no more. She was trembling with a new thought. It was only a shadowy suggestion as yet, and at first she tried to beat it back. But it came again, it forced itself upon her, it mastered her, she could not resist it. The way to break the fate that was pursuing her was to make _Philip_ speak out! The way to stop the marriage with Pete was to compel Philip to marry her! He thought she would never consent to marry Pete--what if he were given to understand that she had consented. That was the way to gain the victory over Philip, the way to punish him! He would not blame her--he would lay the blame at the door of chance, of fate, of her people. He would think they were forcing this marriage upon her--the mother out of love of Pete, the father out of love of Pete's money, and Nancy out of fear of Ross Christian. He would know that she could not struggle because she could not speak. He would believe she was yielding against her will, in spite of her love, in the teeth of their intention. He would think of her as a victim, as a martyr, as a sacrifice.