"Yes, I would, if what he wanted was to make me miserable. I would suffer for no one; and I don't see that any one--be they father or mother--has a right to expect it." "Tui, you have been listening to that horrid Dr. Drabble." "I know I have. Dr. Drabble is a very sensible man." "Does he treat his wife sensibly, dear?" "We are not talking about his wife," said Tui, evading the point, "but about him. I don't agree with everything he says, but I approve of a great deal. Every one should be a free agent. Marry Mr. Carson, and you will be miserable. Become Mrs. Mallow, and you will be happy; and, father or no father, I know which of them I would choose." "Oh, Tui, what nonsense you talk." "Sense, sense, sense, I talk reason, sound reason--and you know I do." "I know nothing of the sort." "Then you ought to," exclaimed Tui, with heat. "Now you are going to be nasty, dear, so I shall leave you till you recover your temper;" and Miss Ostergaard, holding that discretion was the better part of valour, hastily retreated. The wretched Olive did not know whether to laugh or cry. Deserted by Tui, who had gone over to the enemy, she was more than ever bewildered. Miss Slarge, too, was all against Carson--Olive had long seen that--although neither her opinion nor help was of any great value. Olive felt desperate. The wedding-day was only a few weeks distant, and almost immediately she would have to come to a definite decision. Should she accept or reject Carson? should she forego the money and ignore the letter? The more she put the question to herself the more bewildered she became. When they first arrived, Major Semberry and his friend had been guests at the Manor House; but as Miss Slarge (who was nothing if not conventional) did not approve of a lengthy visit, they had removed to the village inn. However, they still spent a great deal of their time at the Manor House, and it so happened that whilst Olive and Tui were pursuing their discussion, they came in for luncheon. Olive heard their voices on the lawn, but, feeling that she could meet neither of them in her present state of mind, sent a message to her chaperon, and slipped out of the house. She walked through the woods and out on to the hills, turning over and over again in her mind her ever-present dilemma. Now, as though to settle the matter offhand, Fate had inspired Mallow with a spirit of restlessness, and he, in his turn, feeling little inclined for Aldean's chatter or company, had strolled out alone. Thus it came about that on the breezy space of the downs the two young people met. Having met, they could scarcely pass without greeting, and they ended in sauntering side by side over the springy turf: Fate had trapped them, and Fate would have to answer for the consequences.