etting engaged to a prudent and elderly man, who would save
her from the plagues and trials that young girls often suffer at the
hands of their lovers. I thought she was so comfortably settled.
Everything promised her a quiet and gentle life. And now this sudden
shock has come upon her, she seems to think she is not fit to live, and
she goes on in such a wild way--"

"Where is she?" Mabyn said abruptly.

"No, no, no!" the mother said anxiously, "you must not speak a word to
her, Mabyn. You must not let her know I have told you anything about it.
Leave her to herself, for a while at least: if you speak to her, she
will take it you mean to accuse her, for she says you warned her, and
she would pay no heed. Leave her to herself, Mabyn."

"Then where is Mr. Trelyon?" said Mabyn, with some touch of indignation
in her voice. "What is he doing? Is he leaving her to herself too?"

"I don't know what you mean, Mabyn," her mother said timidly.

"Why doesn't he come forward like a man and marry her?" said Mabyn
boldly. "Yes, that is what I would do if I were a man. She has sent him
away? Yes, of course: that is right and proper. And Wenna will go on
doing what is right and proper, if you allow her, to the very end, and
the end will be a lifetime of misery: that's all. No, my notion is, that
she should do something that is not right and is quite improper, if only
it makes her happy; and you'll see if I don't get her to do it. Why,
mother, haven't you had eyes to see that these two have been in love for
years? Nobody in the world had ever the least control over him but her:
he would do anything for Wenna; and she--why she always came back
singing after she had met and spoken to him. And then you talk about a
prudent and sensible husband! I don't want Wenna to marry a watchful,
mean, old, stocking-darning cripple, who will creep about the house all
day and peer into cupboards, and give her fourpence-halfpenny a week to
live on. I want her to marry a man--one that is strong enough to protect
her. And I tell you, mother--I've said it before, and I say it
again--she _shall not_ marry Mr. Roscorla."

"Mabyn," said her mother, "you are getting madder than ever. Your
dislike to Mr. Roscorla is most unreasonable. A cripple! Why--"

"Oh, mother!" Mabyn cried with a bright light on her face, "only think
of our Wenna being married to Mr. Trelyon, and how happy and pleased and
pretty she would look as they went walking together! And then