“The trouble’s this, Mr. Fransemmery,” replied Valencia. “Harry came and told me this an hour ago. He said that he and Poppy Wrenne had been in love with each other ever since she left that boarding-school that her mother sent her to, and lately Mrs. Braxfield had been in the secret, and she had consented, not only to their engagement, but to their marriage in London, when Poppy was staying there three months since. It was when Harry went up to town for a holiday—he was away quite a month. Well, now—now that things are as they are—you both know what I mean—Mrs. Braxfield insists that the time has come for this to be made public; she insists that her daughter shall take her rightful place at—at the funeral tomorrow, as Lady Markenmore, and she has threatened Harry that unless this is done, she will—well, I suppose she’ll make a scene!” “And—your brother?” asked Mr. Fransemmery. “What does he say?” “He would rather have postponed it until the funeral is over,” replied Valencia. “Then he was going to announce it, in due form. But Mrs. Braxfield is adamant—he’s seen her twice today, and she won’t budge an inch! She insists that Lady Markenmore should be in her rightful place tomorrow—to be seen and known as Lady Markenmore by everybody.” Mr. Fransemmery caught his other guest’s eye. “What do you say, Harborough?” he asked. Harborough, conscious of Valencia’s sudden gaze in his direction, flushed under his brown skin. “I—er—oh, well, I—don’t think I’m much of a hand at advising in these matters,” he said shyly. “I—er—don’t know much about ’em, don’t you know. But—er—it seems to me that it might be—I might ask, eh?—What does the young lady—Lady Markenmore—say about it?” “Good!” muttered Mr. Fransemmery. “Excellent! Now, my dear, what _does_ Lady Markenmore say about it?” “Lady Markenmore, who isn’t at home, but who’s arriving there late tonight, writes that she would infinitely prefer to do precisely what her husband prefers and proposes to do,” replied Valencia. “She agrees entirely with Harry—but as far as I can gather, Mrs. Braxfield is the sort of person who will either have her own way or make things very disagreeable if she doesn’t get it! That’s the situation—and don’t you think, Mr. Fransemmery, that as you know all of us, you might see Mrs. Braxfield, tonight, and persuade her to listen to reason? I don’t want any scenes tomorrow.” “I will go!” said Mr. Fransemmery. “I will talk to Mrs. Braxfield. But—do I understand that your brother’s intention——” “Harry’s intention is to announce his marriage as soon as the funeral is over,” said Valencia. “I am not going to the church—there will only be men there. When they come back to the house, there will be some legal formalities—my father’s will, and so on. Mr. Chilford will be there, and others, kinsfolk, you know. He will make the announcement then.”