gins's former lover had
quite thrown off his old allegiance, and when no good could be done
by self-sacrifice.

'When did you make up your mind to this, Louise?'

'Yesterday, after our horrid quarrel. No, _you_ didn't quarrel; it
was all my abominable temper. This morning I'm going to answer Mr.
Bowling's last letter, and I shall tell him--what I've told you.
He'll be delighted!'

'Then you have really wished for this from the first?'

Louise plucked at the fringe on the arm of her chair, and replied at
length with maidenly frankness.

'I always thought it would be a good marriage for me. But I
never--do believe me--I never tried to cut Cissy out. The truth is I
thought a good deal of the other--of Mr. Cobb. But I knew that I
_couldn't_ marry him. It would be dreadful; we should quarrel
frightfully, and he would kill me--I feel sure he would, he's so
violent in his temper. But Mr. Bowling is very nice; he couldn't get
angry if he tried. And ho has a much better position than Mr. Cobb.'

Emmeline began to waver in her conviction and to feel a natural
annoyance.

'And you think,' she said coldly, 'that your marriage will take
place soon?'

'That's what I want to speak about, dear Mrs. Mumford. Did you hear
from my mother this morning? Then you see what my position is. I am
homeless. If I leave you, I don't know where I shall go. When Mr.
Higgins knows I'm going to marry Mr. Bowling he won't have me in
the house, even if I wanted to go back. Cissy Will be furious:
she'll come back from Margate just to keep up her father's anger
against me. If you could let me stay here just a short time, Mrs.
Mumford; just a few weeks I should _so_ like to be married from your
house.'

The listener trembled with irritation, and before she could command
her voice Louise added eagerly:

'Of course, when we're married, Mr. Bowling will pay all my debts.'

''You are quite mistaken,' said Emmeline distantly, 'if you think
that the money matter has anything to do with--with my unreadiness
to agree--'

'Oh, I didn't think it--not for a moment. I'm a trouble to you; I
know I am. But I'll be so quiet, dear Mrs. Mumford. You shall hardly
know I'm in the house. If once it's all settled I shall _never_ be
out of temper. Do, please, let me stay! I like you so much, and how
wretched it would be if I had to be married from a lodging-house.'

'I'm afraid, Louise--I'm really afraid--'

'Of my temper?' the girl interrupted. 'If ever I sa