She felt painfully that the mystery of the money given to Holcroft was calculated to compromise her with her kindred; but what was that when compared with the awful thundercloud which hung over her, if he made the public use he threatened of the photo! Her soul died within her. Meanwhile Allan struggled hard to make himself believe that he might yet be happy with Olive; that he had perhaps no solid reason for being otherwise; but it would not do. 'Hang it, what does all this new mystery mean?' he would say to himself. 'We seem fated to misunderstand each other somehow. After all, she seems to love her pride more than me, still!' And Olive knew that it was mingled pride and fear that had opened a kind of chasm between her and Allan again; yet a little sense, a little courage and candour, might have closed it speedily enough, and smoothed away the anger the complication raised at times within her; while to Allan the situation was certainly an intolerable one, and Olive's silence or reticence made it all the more so. CHAPTER XIII. WEDDED. While baffled in her attempts to bring about an explanation between Allan and Olive, and to smooth matters over with that wilful young lady (as she deemed her) and her naturally irritated _fiancé_, Lady Aberfeldie pushed on vigorously all the arrangements for the marriage of Sir Paget and the ill-starred Eveline--a marriage for which there seemed then no other reason than an avaricious desire of grand settlements and so forth. All Olive's old pride and petulance (with much of irritation that was new) seemed to have come back to her, and, until the matter was cleared up regarding that mysterious visit of Holcroft to Maviswood, Allan had ceased to speak of marriage, and thus her spirit took fire at being doubted and humbled. She shrank, unwisely, from a simple confession that might have obviated all this, and from revealing the shame and affront to which this man possessed the power of exposing her. 'I detest riddles, and care not to read them; but the mask she is wearing--if a mask it be--may prove a costly one for herself and us all,' thought Lord Aberfeldie and his son too. 'Be content, Allan, to know that I gave that money--a trifle to me--to Mr. Holcroft in the hope to save us all--especially myself--from a probable public affront which might destroy me,' said Olive on one occasion, her eyes flashing through her tears. 'What mystery is this?--what can you have done? how be in his power? The assertion is absurd!' 'Allan, cannot you trust me?' she asked, fondly and sadly, yet proudly. 'I know not what to think, but the whole affair looks--looks to me----' 'How.' 'Well, devilish queer,' said he, as he cut the matter short, and rode away, on which Olive dried her tears, crested up her head, and looked defiant.