Rupert grumbled at the short time, but, resolved to make the most of it, he walked with her into the cloisters. These were small but the ruins were very beautiful. Rows of delicately carved pillars surrounded a grassy sward. At the far end were the ruins of the church stretching into the pines. The roofless fane looked venerable even in the bright sunshine. The walls were overgrown with ivy, and some of the images over the door, still remained, though much defaced by Time. The windows were without the painted glass which had once filled them, but were rich with elaborate stone work. This was especially fine in the round window over the altar. As in the cloisters, the body of the church was overgrown with grass and some of the pillars had fallen. The lovers did not venture into the ruined church itself but walked round the pavement of the cloisters under the arches. Doubtless in days of old, many a venerable father walked on that paved way. But the monks were gone, the shrine was in ruins, and these lovers of a younger generation paced the quiet cloisters talking of love. "My darling," said the young husband fondly, "how pale you are. I hope nothing is wrong." "My aunt is ill. Oh it's nothing--only a feverish cold. She hopes to be well enough to attend the ball to-morrow night." "I did not hear of it," said Rupert, "though Tidman generally tells me the news. I have been in London for the last few days." "So I see," said Olivia, and glanced at her fair stalwart husband in his frock coat and smart Bond street kit, "how well you look." Rupert appreciated the compliment and taking her hands kissed both several times. Olivia bent forward and pressed a kiss on his smooth hair. Then she withdrew her hands. "We must talk sense," she said severely. "Oh," said Rupert making a wry face, "not about your aunt?" "Yes. I can't understand her. She has shut herself up in her room and refuses to see me. She will admit no one but Miss Pewsey." Ainsleigh shrugged his shoulders. "What does it matter," he said, "you know Miss Wharf never liked you. You are much too handsome, my own. And that is the reason also, for Miss Pewsey's dislike." "Oh, Miss Pewsey is more amiable," said Olivia, "indeed I never knew her to be so amiable. She is always chatting to me at such times as she can be spared from my aunt's room." "Well, what is worrying you?" "This exclusion from Aunt Sophia's room," said Olivia with tears of vexation in her dark eyes. "I am her only relative--or at all events I am her nearest. It seems hard that she should exclude me, and admit Miss Pewsey who is only a paid companion." "I don't think it matters a bit," said Rupert, "hasn't your aunt seen anyone lately?" "No,--yes, by the way. She has seen her lawyer several times." "I expect she is altering her will." Olivia laughed. "She threatens to do so in favour of Miss Pewsey, unless by the end of the month I give you up, and engage myself either to Mr. Walker or to Mr. Burgh."