‘It will be no doing of mine, child. But, as I said before, it may be an impossibility for all that. Now don’t begin to cry. I have not said that it cannot go on, only that it may not be able to do so. Lewis would be the first to tell you so himself, if he knew what I know.’ ‘What is that?’ ‘Never mind; it does not concern you. Be a brave woman, Ethel, and not a child! So you are quite sure that this Lewis wants to marry you?’ ‘I am almost sure.’ ‘Has he asked you?’ ‘Not quite.’ ‘But almost?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And you have almost answered him?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘That sort of thing wouldn’t suit me,’ said Miss Marjory. ‘When I was young, we didn’t do things by halves as you do now. When I was your age, men asked the plain question, and got a straight answer—very straight it generally was, if I remember right! However, times change, and so do people and their ways. Well, well! if you don’t mind shilly-shallying, I don’t see why I need. Has he got anything to marry on—this Lewis of yours?’ ‘Not very much without Maud’s money, and he isn’t going to touch that. He is very high-principled, Cousin Marjory. He is going to give that all back, as soon as it is made over to him.’ ‘Well, that is honourable enough. I like him for that. He has not a ghost of a right to that money, though it is legally his. Well, and when he makes over that, what has he left?’ ‘Only about a hundred a year—something an uncle left him once. I have three hundred a year, you know, Cousin Marjory; and I have not spent nearly that whilst I have been living with you. Lewis doesn’t think his father will do anything for him, after he has given over Maud’s money, he will be so angry; but he means to try and get something to do. I thought—we thought—you know you said——’ ‘Said I would help him to something? Well, I’ll do what I can, if he shows himself worthy. I’ll do that in any case, whether you marry him or not, for he’ll need a helping hand. I can’t say I like the idea of your marrying a Belassis; but, as I said before, that’s not my business, and no good ever comes of trying to shape out other people’s lives for them. But mind what I say, don’t be led on past recall, and don’t pledge yourself, or set your heart on it yet. It may be impossible.’ ‘Oh, I hope not!’ ‘I hope not too.’ ‘Can’t you tell me more, Cousin Marjory?’ ‘No, not now, child; but I hope to be able to do so shortly.’ Lewis Belassis was wandering aimlessly along a field-path, not very far from Ladywell, and indulging in a dream of a brighter future than had ever before seemed to await him, when he was accosted by a respectable-looking man, who had the air and appearance of a well-to-do tradesman. ‘If you please, sir, can you direct me to Ladywell Manor?’ said the man.