There was no selfishness in this desire of Lord Aberfeldie. He had no power to alter the matter as it stood, for if she did not marry Allan if he was willing to marry her, 'then and in that case,' as the will had it, her patrimony would be lost even to herself. Allan's death alone would save it for her. Great indeed, thought the girl with bitterness, must have been her father's regard for the house of Aberfeldie! 'What friends--such lovers we might be but for the confounded plans of that eccentric old fellow!' was the ever-recurring thought of Allan. 'You are at least fond of her?' said the peer, as he and his son smoked their cigars together on the terrace that overlooked the far-stretching vista of the Carse of Gowrie, then bathed in the ruddy splendour of the setting sun. 'Fond of Olive! Yes, as much as she will permit me to be. She is my cousin, of course,' replied Allan. 'There is something evasive--doubtful--in your answer; but you must at some time or other propose to her. You know precisely the terms of her father's remarkable will.' 'Yes, and that it hangs like a millstone round the necks of us both, rendering what may be the dearest wish of our hearts liable, perhaps, to the grossest misconstruction. She has more than once told Eveline that to gain freedom of action she would face poverty--anything.' 'Tuts! Romantic rant! Much she knows of what poverty is. But why should she even think of facing it?' 'To be free and unfettered, as I have said.' 'Relinquishing to you all that portion of her fortune which does not go to charitable institutions?' 'Yes.' 'Poor girl! A silly and impetuous threat. But she will think better of it, Allan, by-and-by, and we have fully five years to count upon yet.' But it did not seem as if the fair Olive was likely to change her mind soon, to judge by her bearing that evening, when, after dinner, the guests and family at Dundargue assembled in the drawing-room. The repast was over, and thereafter, ere the ladies withdrew, Ronald Gair, with all his drones in order, his Crimean, Indian, and Ashanti medals glittering on his breast, had marched thrice round the table, according to his daily wont, in 'full fig,' looking as only a Highland piper or a peacock can look; and, to the amazement of Sir Paget Puddicombe and the disgust of Hawke Holcroft, winding up 'The Birks of Aberfeldie' by several warlike skirls at the back of his master's chair--the dinner, we say, was over, and the gentlemen had joined the ladies in the stately drawing-room, which was lighted by more than one glittering chandelier.