o glad that you and he are such friends, Ursula, for
he will often take up his quarters at Gladwyn.'

It was after this that Giles asked me to marry him at once. He was
strangely unreasonable that morning, and very much bent on having his own
way. My objections were overruled one by one; he absolutely refused to
listen to my arguments when I tried to show him how much wiser it would
be to have his sisters and Eric settled before he brought me home as
mistress to Gladwyn.

It was the first time our wills had clashed; and, though I knew that I
was right and that he was wholly in the wrong, it was very painful for me
to refuse his loving importunities and to turn a deaf ear when he told me
how he was longing for his wife; but I held firmly to my two points, that
I would settle nothing without Aunt Philippa's advice, and that I would
not marry him until Easter.

I told him so very gently, but Giles was not quite like himself that day.
Lady Betty's secrecy was still rankling in his mind, and he certainly
used his power over me to make me very unhappy, for he accused me of
coldness and over-prudence, and reproached me with my want of confidence
in his judgment. My pride took fire at last, and rose in arms against his
tyranny. 'You must listen to me, Giles,' I returned, trying to keep down
a choking feeling. 'You are not quite just to me to-day, but you do not
mean what you say. You will be sorry afterwards for your words. If I do
not accede to your wishes, it is not because I do not love you well
enough to marry you to-morrow, if it were expedient to do so; but under
the circumstances it will be wiser to wait. I will marry you at Easter,
If Uncle Max comes back by that time, for neither you nor I would like
any one else to perform the ceremony. Will you not be content with this?'

'No,' he returned gloomily. 'You are keeping me waiting for a mere
scruple: neither Gladys nor Lady Betty would say a dissenting word if
I brought you to Gladwyn at once. You are disappointing me very much,
Ursula. I could not have believed that my wishes were so little to you.'
But he was not able to finish this cutting speech, for I could bear no
more, and suddenly burst into such an agony of tears that Giles was quite
frightened.

I found out then the goodness of his heart and his deep unselfish
affection for me. He reproached himself bitterly for causing me such
pain, begged my pardon a dozen times for his ill temper, and so coaxed
and pett