"You see, dear," she exclaimed, "this is how it is. Long ago, papa so much disliked our talking about getting married, any of us, even in fun you know, that it was much easier, when Mr. Meredith came, just to be friends--very great friends, you know, but still--friends. Papa always said he wouldn’t let one of us marry till we were twenty-three. That was definite enough. And he has been quite pleased that we haven’t badgered him into getting engaged. Still, I always think that Robin ought to have said to him, once at least, that sometime he wanted to marry me. He didn’t, I just went on playing his accompaniments, and being complimented by his sister. Now--now, what do you think? He has grown annoyed with papa for being so kind to Mr. Symington. Fancy his dictating about papa!" Mabel’s eyes grew round and innocent. "But that’s because Mr. Symington is nice to you, perhaps," said Elma, as though this burst of comprehension was a great discovery on her part. "Exactly," said Mabel calmly. "But if you leave unprotected a cake from which any one may take a slice, you can’t blame people when they try to help themselves. Robin should be able to say to Mr. Symington, ’Hands off--this is my property,’ and then there would be no trouble. As it is, he wants me to do the ordering off, papa’s friend too!" "What did you say to him, Mabel?" Elma asked the question in despair. "I said that when Mr. Symington had really got on--then would be the time to order him off." Mabel fanned herself gently. Then her lip quivered. "I don’t think papa ever meant to let me in for an ignominious position of this sort--but here I am. If Robin won’t champion me, who will?" "Oh, but surely," said Elma, "surely Robin Meredith would never----" "That’s the trouble. He would," said Mabel. "And once you’ve found that out about a man--you simply can’t--you can’t believe in him, that’s all." Elma sat in a wretched heap on her bed. "I think it’s horrid of him to let you feel like that," she said. "Other men wouldn’t. Cuthbert wouldn’t to any one he cared for." "Lots wouldn’t," said Mabel. "That’s why it’s so ignominious, to have thought so much of this one all these years!" "Mr. Maclean wouldn’t," said Elma. She had always wondered why Mabel had ignored him in her matrimonial plans. "No, I don’t believe he would," said Mabel. "But that’s no good to me, is it?" "Mr. Symington wouldn’t," said Elma. "Oh, Elma!" Mabel’s eyes grew frightened. "That’s what scares me. I sit and sit and say, Mr. Symington never would. It makes Robin seems so thin and insignificant. He simply crumples up. And Mr. Symington grows large and honourable, and such a man! And I’m supposed in some way to be dedicated to Robin. It’s like having your tombstone cut before you are dead. Oh, Elma, whatever shall I do!"