said Edward, somewhat bitterly, "I should not be far wrong
if I said that Colonel Quaritch has more to do with your change of
mind than the fact of the transfer of these mortgages."

She dropped her hand and looked him full in the face.

"You are quite right, Mr. Cossey," she said boldly. "Colonel Quaritch
and I are attached to each other, and we hope one day to be married."

"Confound that Quaritch," growled the Squire beneath his breath.

Edward winced visibly at this outspoken statement.

"Ida," he said, "I make one last appeal to you. I am devoted to you
with all my heart; so devoted that though it may seem foolish to say
so, especially before your father, I really think I would rather not
have recovered from my accident than that I should have recovered for
this. I will give you everything that a woman can want, and my money
will make your family what it was centuries ago, the greatest in the
country side. I don't pretend to have been a saint--perhaps you may
have heard something against me in that way--or to be anything out of
the common. I am only an ordinary every-day man, but I am devoted to
you. Think, then, before you refuse me altogether."

"I have thought, Mr. Cossey," answered Ida almost passionately: "I
have thought until I am tired of thinking, and I do not consider it
fair that you should press me like this, especially before my father."

"Then," he said, rising with difficulty, "I have said all I have to
say, and done all that I can do. I shall still hope that you may
change your mind. I shall not yet abandon hope. Good-bye."

She touched his hand, and then the Squire offering him his arm, he
went down the steps to his carriage.

"I hope, Mr. de la Molle," he said, "that bad as things look for me,
if they should take a turn I shall have your support."

"My dear sir," answered the Squire, "I tell you frankly that I wish my
daughter would marry you. As I said before, it would for obvious
reasons be desirable. But Ida is not like ordinary women. When she
sets her mind upon a thing she sets it like a flint. Times may change,
however, and that is all I can say. Yes, if I were you, I should
remember that this is a changeable world, and women are the most
changeable things in it."

When the carriage was gone he re-entered the vestibule. Ida, who was
going away much disturbed in mind, saw him come, and knew from the
expression of his face that there would be trouble. With
characteristic courage she