on my
last birthday. I never thought then to what charming use it would be put.

"Now I think we have demolished all your silly little reasons for making
me miserable," he said. "What others have you to bring forward as to why
you can't marry me in a fortnight?"

I was silent--I did not know how to say it--the principal reason of all.

"Evangeline, darling," he pleaded. "Oh, why will you make us both unhappy?
Tell me, at least."

"Your brother, the duke," I said, very low. "He will never consent to your
marrying a person like me, with no relations."

He was silent for a second, then: "My brother is an awfully good fellow,"
he said; "but his mind is warped by his infirmity. You must not think
hardly of him; he will love you directly he sees you, like every one
else."

"I saw him yesterday," I said.

Robert was so astonished.

"Where did you see him?" he asked.

Then I told him about meeting Lady Merrenden, and her asking me to
luncheon, and about her having been in love with papa, and about the duke
having looked me through and through with an expression of dislike.

"Oh, I see it all," said Robert, holding me closer. "Aunt Sophia and I are
great friends, you know; she has always been like my mother, who died when
I was a baby. I told her all about you when I came from Branches, and how
I had fallen deeply in love with you at first sight, and that she must
help me to see you at Tryland; and she did, and then I thought you had
grown to dislike me, so when I came back she guessed I was unhappy about
something, and this is her first step to find out how she can do me a good
turn. Oh, she is a dear!"

"Yes, indeed, she is," I said.

"Of course she is extra interested in you if she was in love with your
father. So that is all right, darling; she must know all about your
family, and can tell Torquilstone. Why, we have nothing to fear!"

"Oh yes, we have," I said. "I know all the story of what your brother is
_toque_ about. Lady Ver told me. You see, the awkward part is mamma was
really nobody; her father and mother forgot to get married, and although
mamma was lovely and had been beautifully brought up by two old ladies at
Brighton, it was a disgrace for papa marrying her. Mrs. Carruthers has
often taunted me with this."

"Darling!" he interrupted, and began to kiss me again, and that gave me
such feeling I could not collect my thoughts to go on with what I was
saying for a few minutes. We both were rather sil