But perplexity did not stop Miss Marjory from acting. Not a bit of it. She felt perfectly capable of doing a great deal to hinder the machinations of the enemy. If he made himself disagreeable to Tor—well, she would soon contrive to make herself disagreeable to him, and Miss Marjory flattered herself that she could be uncommonly disagreeable when she had a mind to be. ‘I can be a perfect ogress when I choose,’ she said to herself, with a modest appreciation of her own merits. If he enlisted the Belassis faction upon his side, as seemed highly probable, after the private confidence with Mrs. Belassis which Tor had surprised—well, if they too joined in the hue-and-cry, she would very soon silence them. Miss Marjory did not believe Mr. Belassis would dare to be a very warm partizan in a cause which would bring him into antagonism with her; though his wife, who was in all probability ignorant of her husband’s early life, would stand in no awe of anyone; but at the same time it could not be a very difficult matter to shut her mouth, and Tor’s ally felt quite equal to the occasion. Why Miss Marjory had so warmly espoused the young man’s cause she could hardly have explained to herself. His own rather romantic solicitude over his friend’s interests had brought him into a scrape, which he ought to have foreseen from the first; and it was certainly his own business, not hers, to get himself clear again. But then, Miss Marjory had known and liked Tor’s father, and had taken a fancy to the young man for his father’s sake. She had been his first and only confidante as to the part he was playing, and had promised her help if it should be needed. He certainly did stand in need of assistance at this juncture, and she was not going back on her word now. Miss Marjory never did things by halves. _Bis dat, qui cito dat_, was a favourite motto of hers, and certainly she had lost no time so far. She had come as quickly as she could in response to his appeal; and now that she was on the spot, she did not mean to let the grass grow under her feet. A long talk with Mrs. Lorraine the following morning, enlightened her a good deal as to the Belassis family history; and finding that Aunt Olive knew already of Mr. Belassis’ first marriage, she gave her the whole history, and frankly stated her opinion of that gentleman. The gentle little widow seemed to enjoy hearing Miss Marjory’s abuse of him, which is a sad proof of the ingratitude of the world. Lewis Belassis came to luncheon. He was hovering a good deal about Maud during these last days of nominal uncertainty, notwithstanding the rebuff he had received. The birthday was only four days distant, and the whole family from Thornton House was to dine at Ladywell; and in the evening Maud was to hear her father’s will read, and was, if possible, to give her answer. She did not tell anyone what that answer would be, but announced that it was quite ready.