parts that general sense which one side
of him had pushed before him all day--that the thing was really
abominable. And this side of him at this time was uppermost. He drew a
whistling breath.

"Well, my dear," he began, and the relief was very apparent in his
voice. But Jenny interrupted.

"One minute, please, father! In fairness to--to everyone I must put the
other side.... I suppose the main question is this, after all. Am I fond
of him?--fond enough, that is, to marry him--because, of course, I'm
fond of him; he's been so extraordinarily kind always.... I suppose
that's really the only thing to be considered. If I were fond enough of
him, I suppose all the arguments against count for nothing. Isn't that
so?... Yes; I want you to say what you think."

He waited. Still he could make out nothing of her face, though he
glanced across the tea-things once or twice.

"My dear, I don't know what to say. I--"

"Father, dear, I just want that from you. Do you think that any
consideration at all ought to stand in the way, if I were--I don't say
for one single moment that I am--but if I were--well, really fond of
him? I'm sorry to have to speak so very plainly, but it's no good being
silly."

He swallowed in his throat once or twice.

"If you really were fond of him--I think ... I think that, no
consideration of the sort you have mentioned ought to ... to stand in
your way."

"Thank you, father," said Jenny softly.

"When did you first think of it?"

Jenny paused.

"I think I knew he was going to ask me two days ago--the day you met us
out riding, you know."

* * * * *

There was a long silence.

They had already discussed, when Frank's affair had been before them,
all secondary details.

The Rector's sister was to have taken Jenny's place. There was nothing
of that sort to talk about now. They were both just face to face with
primary things, and they both knew it.

The Rector's mind worked like a mill--a mill whose machinery is running
aimlessly. The wheels went round and round, but they effected nothing.
He was completely ignorant as to what Jenny intended. He perceived--as
in a series of little vignettes--a number of hypothetical events, on
this side and that, but they drew to no conclusion in his mind. He was
just waiting on his daughter's will.

* * * * *

Jenny broke the silence with a slow remark in another kind of voice.

"Father, d