"You'll do what you're told, or starve," said her father, gruffly. "Let us have no more of this nonsense." He looked at his watch. "The motor is at the door, and I have to catch the Brighton train. I made up my mind to have an explanation before I left. That you should receive my expressed wishes in this way, when I am still weak from illness, shows how much you really care for me. But you understand." "I understand that you intend to marry a second time, and that I am to be the mistress of this house until your wife enters it." "Quite so; and you understand also that you are to ask Mrs. Mellop to come and stay here during my absence. Good! That's all. Good-bye," and without offering to kiss her, the man walked to the door. "Papa," cried Audrey, before he could reach it, and struck with a sudden thought, "are you going to marry Mrs. Mellop?" "No," retorted Sir Joseph, pulling open the door with a swing, "I am going to marry Miss Rosy Pearl"; and, flinging the name at her with a snarl, he marched out sullenly. The way in which Audrey had received his news was displeasing to a man who always had his own way. The girl sank into a chair, for her limbs now refused to support her, although pride had hitherto held her up. With a blank, bewildered stare she looked round the dainty, bright breakfast-room, the white walls of which were painted gracefully with cupids and wreaths of flowers bound with knots of airy blue ribbon. Sorrow seemed out of place in so frivolous an apartment; yet its mere beauty enhanced the grief felt by the girl. The loss of her mother had been terrible to her, for although mother and daughter, educationally speaking, were leagues asunder, yet they had been greatly attached, and Audrey loved the uncouth, stupid woman at whom so many people laughed. And Audrey alone had been kind to poor Lady Branwin, who was scorned even by her own husband. No one regretted the simple creature's death but her daughter, who was unlike her in every way. As for Sir Joseph, Audrey saw that he was quite glad to be relieved of his ill-fated wife's presence.