“Now, mamma,” she resumed, almost stonily, “it is time that you should tell me what has happened. We arrived here all quite happy--it is just an hour ago----” here Bee’s voice shook a little, but she commanded it with an effort--“I ran up to dress for dinner, and when I came back in about ten minutes I found you and Aubrey--with your letters--looking as if you had both been dead and buried while I was away. You wouldn’t answer me, and he never said a word. You had done something to him in that little time to make him turn away from me, and yet you will not tell me what it is. Here I am alone,” said Bee, once more with a quiver in her voice. “Aubrey ought to be standing by me. I suppose he is having his dinner downstairs, too, and thinking no more of me. I just stand alone, nobody caring in all the world. What is the meaning of it, mamma?” “Bee, you are very hard upon me. And poor Aubrey, he is having no dinner--of that I am sure.” “You called him Mr. Leigh downstairs.” “So I did, and so I must, and all of us; but I cannot have you speaking of him like that, poor, poor fellow; and just for this once---- Oh, Bee, my darling, don’t stand and look at me so! I would rather have died than say it either to him or to you. Your papa has been hearing I don’t know what, and he has changed his mind about Mr. Leigh altogether, and says it must not be.” “What must not be?” “Oh, Bee! Oh, don’t take it so hard! Don’t look like that! Your--your--engagement, my darling. Have patience; oh, have patience! He has heard something. Men hear things that we would never hear. And he doesn’t deny it. Oh! he doesn’t deny it. I had a hope that he would contradict it at once, and flare up in a rage like you, and say it wasn’t true. But he doesn’t deny it--poor boy, poor boy! And after that, how can I say one word to papa?” “My engagement?” said Bee, in a hoarse voice. She had been staring at her mother as in a dream--only partially hearing, not understanding at all the rest that was said. “My engagement? He gave his consent. It was all settled. You would not allow us till the letter came, but then it was consent.” “Yes, yes, dear. That was at first. He consented at first because--and now it appears he has heard something--someone has called upon him--he has discovered--and he writes to me that it must be broken off. Oh, Bee, don’t think my heart doesn’t bleed for you. I think it will kill me. He says it must be broken off at once.” “Who says so?” said Bee, in her passion. “He! One would think you were speaking of God--that can say ‘Yes’ to-day and ‘No’ to-morrow, and build things up and then snatch them down. But I will not have it! I am not a doll, to be put in one position and then in another, as anybody pleases. My engagement! It is mine; it is not his.”