s ushered into the drawing-room, where Ida was working, for
it was a wet and windy afternoon.

She rose to greet him coldly enough, and he sat down, and then came a
pause which she did not seem inclined to break.

At last he spoke. "Did the Squire get my letter, Miss de la Molle?" he
asked.

"Yes," she answered, rather icily. "Colonel Quaritch sent it up."

"I am very sorry," he added confusedly, "that I should have put myself
in such a false position. I hope that you will give me credit for
having believed my accusation when I made it."

"Such accusations should not be lightly made, Mr. Cossey," was her
answer, and, as though to turn the subject, she rose and rang the bell
for tea.

It came, and the bustle connected with it prevented any further
conversation for a while. At length, however, it subsided, and once
more Edward found himself alone with Ida. He looked at her and felt
afraid. The woman was of a different clay to himself, and he knew it--
he loved her, but he did not understand her in the least. However, if
the thing was to be done at all it must be done now, so, with a
desperate effort, he brought himself to the point.

"Miss de la Molle," he said, and Ida, knowing full surely what was
coming, felt her heart jump within her bosom and then stand still.

"Miss de la Molle," he repeated, "perhaps you will remember a
conversation that passed between us some weeks ago in the
conservatory?"

"Yes," she said, "I remember--about the money."

"About the money and other things," he said, gathering courage. "I
hinted to you then that I hoped in certain contingencies to be allowed
to make my addresses to you, and I think that you understood me."

"I understood you perfectly," answered Ida, her pale face set like
ice, "and I gave you to understand that in the event of your lending
my father the money, I should hold myself bound to--to listen to what
you had to say."

"Oh, never mind the money," broke in Edward. "It is not a question of
money with me, Ida, it is not, indeed. I love you with all my heart. I
have loved you ever since I saw you. It was because I was jealous of
him that I made a fool of myself last night with Colonel Quaritch. I
should have asked you to marry me long ago only there were obstacles
in the way. I love you, Ida; there never was a woman like you--never."

She listened with the same set face. Obviously he was in earnest, but
his earnestness did not move her; it scarcely even flatter