"A girl's love," said Miss Wharf coolly, "she'll soon get over that. Mr. Burgh is Lavinia's nephew, and I have promised Lavinia that Olivia shall be his wife." "Why in heaven's name?" asked Rupert angrily, "he has no money." "Oh yes he has, and may have a chance of getting more. Lavinia has been a good friend to me for years and years--all my life in fact, Mr. Ainsleigh. I owe much to her, and I intend to repay her. Her heart is set on this match and Olivia must marry Clarence." "Olivia shall not." "Olivia shall. I set my will against yours Mr. Ainsleigh." "You'll find my will is stronger," said Rupert coolly. Miss Wharf gave a short laugh. "Try," she said curtly; then her hard eyes softened and her cold manner grew warmer. "Don't let us quarrel," she said gently. "I wish you well, and would give you anything save Olivia--" "Which is the only thing I want." "How rude of you to call Olivia a 'thing,'" said the woman lightly, "you may make up your mind that if you marry her, I shall leave my money to Miss Pewsey." "Do so. I don't want your money." "Five hundred a year is not enough," sneered Miss Wharf, "but I may have more. What do you say to five thousand--" "Oh," interrupted Rupert coolly, "so Olivia has told you about the fan--or perhaps Miss Pewsey." "It was Olivia. I believe Clarence Burgh told her. This fan," Miss Wharf unfurled the article, "means five thousand pounds--" "Or a cut throat," said Rupert quickly. "Pah! how foolish you are, as though such a thing could happen in England. Were we in China I admit that I should be afraid to keep this fan; but as it is I am perfectly safe. See here, Mr. Ainsleigh," she added bending towards him, "if you will give up Olivia I will give you this fan and you can get the money to pay off your creditors." "No," said Rupert at once. "I need thirty thousand, not five. And even if you were to give me the thirty thousand I need, I would not sell Olivia for that sum." "Look at the fan first," said Miss Wharf and gave it to him. Rupert's nerves thrilled as he took the dainty trifle in his hand. So much had been said about it, so much hung on it, of the meaning of which he was ignorant, that he could not look at it without feeling the drama it represented. Balzac's remark about killing a Mandarin in China to obtain a fortune, occurred to his mind. This fan dainty and fragile, might cost the life of such a Mandarin. It all depended into whose hands it fell.