you want to ruin me, your family and yourself, you must do so.
But there is one thing. While it is over me, which I suppose will not
be for much longer, my house is my own, and I will not have that
Colonel of yours hanging about it, and I shall write to him to say so.
You are your own mistress, and if you choose to walk over to church
and marry him you can do so, but it will be done without my consent,
which of course, however, is an unnecessary formality. Do you hear me,
Ida?"

"If you have quite done, father," she answered coldly, "I should like
to go before I say something which I might be sorry for. Of course you
can write what you like to Colonel Quaritch, and I shall write to him,
too."

Her father made no answer beyond sitting down at his table and
grabbing viciously at a pen. So she left the room, indignant, indeed,
but with as heavy a heart as any woman could carry in her breast.

"Dear Sir," wrote the not unnaturally indignant Squire, "I have
been informed by my daughter Ida of her entanglement with you. It
is one which, for reasons that I need not enter into, is
distasteful to me, as well as, I am sorry to say, ruinous to Ida
herself and to her family. Ida is of full age, and must, of
course, do as she pleases with herself. But I cannot consent to
become a party to what I disapprove of so strongly, and this being
the case, I must beg you to cease your visits to my house.

"I am, sir, your obedient servant,
"James de la Molle.

"Colonel Quaritch, V.C."

Ida as soon as she had sufficiently recovered herself also wrote to
the Colonel. She told him the whole story, keeping nothing back, and
ended her letter thus:

"Never, dear Harold, was a woman in a greater difficulty and never
have I more needed help and advice. You know and have good reason to
know how hateful this marriage would be to me, loving you as I do
entirely and alone, and having no higher desire than to become your
wife. But of course I see the painfulness of the position. I am not so
selfish as my father believes or says that he believes. I quite
understand how great would be the material advantage to my father if I
could bring myself to marry Mr. Cossey. You may remember I told you
once that I thought no woman has a right to prefer her own happiness
to the prosperity of her whole family. But, Harold, it is easy to
speak thus, and very, very h