"Not at all. The question is, if you were to propose any such measure, would Anna agree to it? I affirm distinctly that she would not. The time has gone by, my dear madam, when your wishes were a law to her. Allow me to tell you this: I have Anna's distinct promise to marry me." Under the circumstances, he might perhaps be excused the smile of exultation and gratified vanity which overspread his features; but, for all that, Mrs. Jenwyn felt a strong desire to slap his face vigorously with both hands. What he had just told her did not surprise her greatly. From the moment John Clisby stated that he had seen Ormsby kiss Anna she had known that matters must have come to a serious pass between them. She sat for a few moments as if considering. Then she said: "If Anna has indeed given you such a promise as you say she has, the matter at once assumes a very different complexion. All the more needful is it that Mr. Drelincourt should at once be communicated with, in order that either he or her trustees may be in a position to decide where and with whom Anna's home shall be during the remaining term of her minority." "Pardon me, my dear madam, but there will be no need whatever for either you or any one else to enter into any such arrangements with regard to Miss Drelincourt's future. In less than a month from now her home will be with me. The dear girl has consented to make me the happiest of men as soon as the needful arrangements for our marriage can be concluded." He rose and pushed back his chair. "We love each other; why, then, defer our happiness till she shall be of age?" There was a touch of bluster in his way of asking the question, as though he anticipated some further opposition on Mrs. Jenwyn's part. Not without a little dismay did that lady learn that matters had gone so far between the young people. "It is all the fault of my accident," she said to herself. "But for that, I should have had her constantly under my eye, and he would have had no opportunity of meeting her except in my presence, which would not have suited his purpose at all. But the harm is done, and I am driven to my last intrenchment. Oh, Anna, Anna, where are your eyes, that you cannot see through this shallow, selfish pretender--a cad at heart, if ever there was one--who cares no more for you than for the flower in his buttonhole, who seeks you only for your money, and who would break your heart when once he had made you his wife, as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow morning! But you shall be saved in your own despite, my poor darling, even if your foolish little heart should be cracked in the process. There is no help for it--none!"