"What would you say if I gave Beckleigh to Basil?" he asked pointedly. "He could marry Patricia, you know, and take my name." "I should be very glad," replied Mara quietly. "Well, then, I won't," said her father, greatly annoyed. "You are the last of the direct line and should have the property." "I wouldn't know what to do with it." "You could live here when I am gone." Mara raised her faint eyebrows. "All alone?" she questioned. "You know I would not allow Theodore to stay, and that Patricia would go with Basil, who is always moving round the world. Oh, I couldn't." "What's to be done, then?" asked the Squire helplessly. Mara threw her arms round his neck, a rare demonstration of affection from so usually a self-controlled girl. "Wait," she whispered, "wait and see what is about to happen." "What is about to happen?" "I don't know. But something is coming along to change all our lives." "How do you know?" "I can't tell you. I only feel that there is something in the air to----" "Oh!" Colpster grew angry; "more of your occult rubbish. I wish you were an ordinary girl, Mara, and not a dreaming visionary. I shall wait until the emerald comes back, and then you must make up your mind to marry Theodore, since Basil's affections are engaged." Mara reflected and thought how very certain Theodore was that the emerald had gone back to Japan never to return. The recollection gave her a chance of pacifying her father, and of securing her freedom. "Very well, then," she said quietly. "When you get the emerald, father, I shall marry him," and in this way the affair was settled for the time being. But think as she might, Mara could not guess how her father expected the Mikado Jewel to return to the Colpster family. And even if it did, she could not understand how its possession would affect things in any way. Meanwhile the days and weeks passed by and the time drew near for the visit of Count Akira. Mara, although she said nothing, was looking forward to his arrival. Why, she did not know, for, as a rule, she was quite indifferent to those who came to Beckleigh Hall. In her heart, however, she felt that he was coming into her life, either for good or ill, and it was this feeling which made her say to her father that a change was about to take place. But she could not have put her feeling into words, and did not attempt to do so. With the fatalism which was inherent in her character, she waited passively, certain that what was meant to be would certainly become when the hour struck. There was nothing more to be said.