the wide brim of the hat she
was wearing.

Then we talked a little on indifferent matters, while I pricked
my fingers helping to pluck the roses. She asked me if I thought
that Anscombe was getting on well, and how long it would be
before he could travel. I replied that Dr. Rodd could tell her
better than myself, but that I hoped in about a week.

"In a week!" she said, and although she tried to speak lightly
there was dismay in her voice.

"I hope you don't think it too long," I answered; "but even if he
is fit to go, the oxen have not come yet, and I don't quite know
when they will."

"Too long!" she exclaimed. "Too long! Oh! if you only knew what
it is to me to have such guests as you are in this place," and
her dark eyes filled with tears.

By now we had passed to the side of the house in search of some
other flower that grew in the shade, I think it was mignonette,
and were out of sight of the verandah and quite alone.

"Mr. Quatermain," she said hurriedly, "I am wondering whether to
ask your advice about something, if you would give it. I have no
one to consult here," she added rather piteously.

"That is for you to decide. If you wish to do so I am old enough
to be your father, and will do my best to help."

We walked on to an orange grove that stood about forty yards
away, ostensibly to pick some fruit, but really because we knew
that there we should be out of hearing and could see any one who
approached.

"Mr. Quatermain," she said presently in a low voice, "I am in
great trouble, almost the greatest a woman can have. I am
engaged to be married to a man whom I do not care for."

"Then why not break it off? It may be unpleasant, but it is
generally best to face unpleasant things, and nothing can be so
bad as marrying a man whom you do not--care for."

"Because I cannot--I dare not. I have to obey."

"How old are you, Miss Marnham?"

"I shall be of age in three months' time. You may guess that I
did not intend to return here until they were over, but I was,
well--trapped. He wrote to me that my father was ill and I
came."

"At any rate when they are over you will not have to obey any
one. It is not long to wait."

"It is an eternity. Besides this is not so much a question of
obedience as of duty and of love. I love my father who, whatever
his faults, has always been very kind to me."

"And I am sure he loves you. Why not go to him and tell him your
trouble?"

"He knows it