"Well, not exactly," rejoined Hardwick in his stolid way; "in fact, seeing that you have been staying with Amy, I expected you to look more fagged than you do. Amy makes a toil of pleasure and is certainly a very wearing woman to live with." "She is a dear," said Miss Enistor warmly, "and has been most kind. But you are right about her feverish pursuit of pleasure," she said, with an after-thought. "Amy never rests!" "And never lets any one else rest, which is worse," said Julian grimly; he looked at her sideways. "Yes! Mere London pleasure cannot account for your happy looks. Well, let me know who he is!" "Let you know who he is?" repeated Alice, blushing and looking prettier than ever, "do you mean----" "I think you know what I mean. You are in love at last." Like a woman Alice did not reply directly to the remark. "Are you very angry, Julian?" she asked, laying a timid hand on his arm. "My dear, I am not angry at all. We are brother and sister, you know. Long ago I discovered that you were right as to my proposal and I was wrong. All that I could do for you was to accept the situation of your future husband if Don Pablo insisted upon marrying you. But I presume I can now resign that position," ended Hardwick gravely. "He is called Douglas Montrose," said Alice, still evasive. "A very pretty name for Prince Charming. Yes, your father mentioned to me that the young man had written to him, and he also mentioned that Montrose is the fortunate person who has inherited Lady Staunton's money. So Amy got her own way, as I knew she would. An inveterate matchmaker is Amy." Alice opened her eyes widely. "Did you guess then?" "Not so much guess as know," replied Hardwick composedly. "Amy wrote about her desire that you should become Mrs. Montrose." "And you?" "I was pleased, of course. Amy told me how deeply you loved the man." "She could not tell that for certain," pouted Alice doubtfully. "I am not so sure of that. Women are proverbially clever and shrewd in anything that has to do with love-making. However, it seems she was right: your bright eyes and crimson cheeks tell me as much." "I may as well confess that I love Douglas," admitted Alice boldly, "and he loves me. Already we have asked father's consent to our marriage." "He will give it without doubt, Alice. It is a happy way of getting back the lost money." "Oh the money! the money!" she cried petulantly; "you talk just as Amy talks, Julian. As if I cared for money. I love Douglas, and if he were a pauper I would marry him. And my father has not jumped at the chance of getting back the money, as you seem to think. He won't say yes and he won't say no." "He must say something," remarked Julian, with a shrug. "Nothing. He refuses to give his decision until he knows more about Douglas." Hardwick nodded. "That is natural and sensible. So the young man is coming to Tremore to be put through his paces?"