grim arrogance that forbade all
contradiction. He was in a curiously uncertain mood, and Nan, anxious
not to provoke another storm, assented reluctantly.

"You mean that? You won't fail me?" His keen eyes searched her face
as though he doubted her and sought to wring the truth from her lips.

"Yes," she said very low. "I mean it."

He left her then, and a few minutes later, when she had recovered her
poise, she rejoined Lady Gertrude and Isobel in the drawing-room.

"You and Roger have been having a very long confab," remarked Isobel,
looking up from the jumper she was knitting. "What does it portend?"

Her sallow, nimble fingers never paused in their work. The soft, even
click of the needles went on unbrokenly.

"Nothing immediate," answered Nan. "He wants me to settle the date of
our wedding, that's all."

The clicking ceased abruptly.

"And when is it to be?" Isobel's attention seemed entirely
concentrated upon a dropped stitch.

"Some time in April. It will have to depend a little on Mrs. Seymour's
plans. She wants me to be married from her house, just as Penelope
was."

Lady Gertrude was busily engaged upon the making of a utilitarian
flannel petticoat for one of her protegees in the village. She
anchored her needle carefully in the material before she laid it aside.

"Do you mean from her house in town?" she asked.

"Why, yes, I suppose so." Nan looked faintly puzzled.

"Then I hope you will re-arrange matters."

Although Lady Gertrude's manner was colder and infinitely more precise,
yet the short speech held the same arrogance as Roger's "Then you'll
marry me in April"--the kind of arrogance which calmly assumes that any
opposition is out of the question.

"It would be the greatest disappointment to the tenantry," she
continued, "if they were unable to witness the marriage of my son--as
they would have done, of course, if he'd married someone of the
district. So I hope"--conclusively--"that Mrs. Seymour will arrange
for your wedding to take place from Mallow Court."

She picked up the flannel petticoat and recommenced work upon it again
as though the matter were settled, supremely oblivious of the fact that
she had succeeded, as usual, in rousing every rebellious feeling her
future daughter-in-law possessed.

Nan lay long awake that night. Roger's sudden gust of passion had
taken her by surprise, filling her with a kind of terror of him. Never
before had he shown her that side