"So this is the end of my little treat in honour of my rise of salary!" she ruefully remarked. "I thought it would be pleasant on the river; but I feel almost sorry we came. Certainly, Mrs. Poyser was right in her opinion of 'pleasuring-days.'" CHAPTER XII. _Reprieved._ "Now, May," began Miss Waller in her most portentous tone, on Monday morning, "I must have an explanation with you. I'm going home this week, for it's ruinously expensive being here; and to-day Mr. Lang is coming for his answer. Without any beating about the bush, I expect you to marry him." "Oh, aunt, don't--_don't_!" entreated May, wringing her hands. "I cannot marry Mr. Lang." "What childish nonsense! Fancy refusing a house in Palace Gardens, and all that money!" "I can't and won't marry him." "Very well, then, you and Doris must find another home. I have pinched myself to keep you in luxury; but if you will be so wickedly blind to your plain duty, I wash my hands of you." "I don't care one bit for myself, aunt; I could earn a living, I'm sure, and I'd gladly do it. Let me try," pleaded May, "I will promise never to cost you another penny, if you will only be so kind as to give Doris a home until I am able to keep her myself." "Which will not be till Doomsday. Talk of earning your living--what rubbish! Why, you haven't even one decent accomplishment. No, if you leave my house, Doris goes, too; I won't have the little spoilt monkey left on my hands." "But, aunt----" "Besides, think what advantages you could give Doris if you married Mr. Lang--the best possible education, horses, carriages, Continental trips, everything! If you really cared at all for your child, you couldn't hesitate for a minute." It was a clever argument, and it made May waver as nothing else could; and Miss Waller did not know whether to be glad or sorry that just then Mr. Lang himself was announced. "Don't go, Miss Waller," he began, as the spinster, after a few casual observations, was about to leave the room. "I've nothing to say to Mrs. Burnside you may not hear as well. Your niece knows by this time that I am anxious to have her for my wife. I want to marry and settle down now, and I can promise you," he added, turning to face May for the first time, "a most luxurious home--you've seen it--both for yourself and your little girl. Your aunt wishes it, I know; and I hope, Mrs. Burnside--May--you'll make me very happy by saying you'll be my wife before Christmas." He came closer, and would have taken her hand; but she started back. Her aunt's basilisk eyes were fixed on her, to add to her discomfiture; but she said as firmly as she could, "I am very grateful for your kindness, Mr. Lang; nevertheless, I must refuse your offer, for I do not love you, and I could not marry any man unless I did."