"You won't drop it yet, you see." The reasons did not deceive Duplay. "I don't think I ought to desert Cecily. I suppose she'll go back to Blent. Oh, what an exasperating man he is!" "Doesn't look as if the match would come off now, does it?" "It's just desperate. The last chance is gone. I don't know what to do." "Marry him yourself," advised the Major. Though it was an old idea of his, he was not very serious. "I'd sooner poison him," said Mina decisively. "What must Mr Disney think of me?" "I shouldn't trouble about that. Do you suppose he thinks much at all, Mina?" (That is the sort of remark which relatives sometimes regard as consolatory.) "I think Harry Tristram as much of a fool as you do," Duplay added. "If he'd taken it, he could have made a good match anyhow, even if he didn't get Lady Tristram." "Cecily's just as bad. She's retired into her shell. You don't know that way of hers--of theirs, I suppose it is, bother them! She's treating everybody and everything as if they didn't exist." "She'll go back to Blent, I suppose?" "Well, she must. Somebody must have it." "If it's going begging, call on me," said the Major equably. He was in a better humor with the world than he had been for a long while; his connection with Iver promised well. But Mina sniffed scornfully; she was in no mood for idle jests. Cecily had been told about the scheme and its lamentable end. Her attitude was one of entire unconcern. What was it to her if Harry were made a viscount, a duke, or the Pope? What was anything to her? She was going back to her father at Blent. The only animation she displayed was in resenting the reminder, and indeed denying the fact, that she had ever been other than absolutely happy and contented at Blent. Mina pressed the point, and Cecily then declared that now at any rate her conscience was at rest. She had tried to do what was right--at what sacrifice Mina knew; the reception of her offer Mina knew. Now perhaps Mina could sympathize with her, and could understand the sort of way in which Cousin Harry received attempts to help him. On this point they drew together again. "You must come back to Merrion, dear," urged Cecily. Mina, who never meant to do anything else, embraced her friend and affectionately consented. It is always pleasant to do on entreaty what we might be driven to do unasked.