"Tell him!" repeated Miss Scarse, her face crimson, her eyes bright. "Why, I hate him more than any man I ever knew. He wants to marry me, and won't take a refusal. My father supports him, and, for Harold's sake, I have to fight them both." "And you are not afraid of so formidable a foe?" said the widow, seeing her eyes droop. "Not of my father, but I am afraid of Mr. van Zwieten. He is a terrible man, and has so powerful a will that he can almost impose it on mine. There is something hypnotic about him, and I feel scarcely mistress of myself when he is near me." "Nonsense! You are fanciful, child." "Indeed--indeed I am not," protested the girl, eagerly. "But you don't know how strong and obstinate he is. He never loses his temper, he just looks and looks with those terrible eyes of his, and repeats his desire--his will--his intentions--over and over again. I feel like a rabbit in the presence of a snake. And that's why I want Harold and me to be married soon, because I feel, if we are not, Mr. van Zwieten will compel me in spite of myself." Lady Jenny bent forward and caught Brenda's wrists. "My dear, if Van Zwieten tries these pranks on, you send for me. If any one can save you from him, I can." "But how?" "That is my affair. Van Zwieten may be all you say, but I can make him afraid of me. Now you must go, my dear. I have a lot of letters to write." Brenda went off much puzzled over Lady Jenny's attitude toward Van Zwieten. Evidently she knew something to the man's disadvantage. But Brenda was doubtful whether her friend could use her knowledge sufficiently cleverly to crush the Dutchman. His resource was extraordinary, and he was clever and unscrupulous enough to be able to defend himself in an emergency. However, she felt it was no use trying to forecast the future. She resolved to keep out of Van Zwieten's way and get Harold to marry her as soon as possible. Once she was Mrs. Burton, the Dutchman would be obliged to cease persecuting her. For the next few days Brenda was fully occupied with her packing. As Harold was in London, or rather so near London that he could come up there quickly, she was glad to be going. She felt she must see him and have from him an explanation, and an understanding as to when their marriage could take place. At her aunt's she would be safe from Van Zwieten, since Mr. St. Leger did not like him; but Brenda knew well that for his own ends--whatever these might be--her father would, as ever, insist on her favoring Van Zwieten. The only way to put an end to the intolerable situation was to marry Harold. With that, her father would no doubt wash his hands of her, but at least she would be relieved from the persecutions of the Dutchman, and would have some one to love and protect her. So it was with thankfulness that Brenda left the cottage.