"My aunt is the head of the family," explained the Prince, calmly, unconscious of his companion's perturbation. "She rules us with a rod of iron. But you will like her and I know she will like you. She adores anything with fire in it." "Oh," said Susie, to herself, "and how does he know I've any fire in me?" But she judged it wisest not to utter the question aloud. "She worships spirit," added the Prince. "She is very fond of quoting a line of your poet, Browning. 'What have I on earth to do,' she will demand, 'with the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly?' Sometimes, I fear, she aims the adjectives at me." Susie felt her heart softening, for she liked that line, too. "I don't believe you deserve the adjectives,'' she said. "Do you not?" he asked, eagerly, with brightened eyes. "And I should like to meet your aunt," she continued, hastily. "So you shall, most certainly," he assented, instantly. "As soon as it can be arranged." "Oh, does it have to be arranged?" inquired Susie, in some dismay. "Not in that sense--she is very democratic--she likes people for what they are. But until this question of the succession is concluded you will readily understand that, through anxiety, she is not in the best of humours--not quite herself." "Is she, then, here?" asked Susie. "Here? Oh, no; she is at Markheim--at the post of duty. That is another reason--until this affair is settled, I cannot ask her to join me here." "You will ask her to do that?" "Certainly; she can stop here very well on her way to Ostend. She would be at Ostend now but for this affair. Perhaps that is another reason why she is ill-humoured. She is so fond of life and gaiety, and in summer Markheim is rather dull. Besides, there is the tradition to maintain." "How do you know that she is in an ill-humour," questioned Sue, "if you have not seen her?" "Oh, she writes to me--I had a letter from her this morning. I can see she is not well-pleased--quite the opposite, in fact!--at the way things are going." "And how are they going?" "They seem to be going against us," said the Prince, with a touch of bitterness. "But how _can_ they be? I thought things were at a stand-still until Lord Vernon got--got well enough to take them up again." "So did I--that is what one would naturally suppose. Yet it seems that an undercurrent has set in against us. I fear that I made a mistake," he added, gloomily, "in agreeing with Lord Vernon not to proceed further for a week, though, under the circumstances, I could scarcely refuse. He seems well enough," and he glanced around, "to hear what I have to say." "He _is_ well enough!" cried Sue, indignantly; and certainly at that moment, talking eagerly to Nell, that gentleman appeared quite the reverse of an invalid. "_I_ will speak to him--I am under no promise--I believe--" She stopped, fearing that she might say too much--after all, she could not betray Lord Vernon; she could only appeal to him, warn him.