ard to act up to it. What am I to do? What
am I to do? And yet how can I in common fairness ask you to answer
that question? God help us both, Harold! Is there /no/ way out of it?"

These letters were both duly received by Harold Quaritch on the
following morning and threw him into a fever of anxiety and doubt. He
was a just and reasonable man, and, knowing something of human nature,
under the circumstances did not altogether wonder at the Squire's
violence and irritation. The financial position of the de la Molle
family was little, if anything, short of desperate. He could easily
understand how maddening it must be to a man like Mr. de la Molle, who
loved Honham, which had for centuries been the home of his race,
better than he loved anything on earth, to suddenly realise that it
must pass away from him and his for ever, merely because a woman
happened to prefer one man to another, and that man, to his view, the
less eligible of the two. So keenly did he realise this, indeed, that
he greatly doubted whether or no he was justified in continuing his
advances to Ida. Finally, after much thought, he wrote to the Squire
as follows:

"I have received your letter, and also one from Ida, and I hope you
will believe me when I say that I quite understand and sympathise with
the motives which evidently led you to write it. I am unfortunately--
although I never regretted it till now--a poor man, whereas my rival
suitor is a rich one. I shall, of course, strictly obey your
injunctions; and, moreover, I can assure you that, whatever my own
feelings may be in the matter, I shall do nothing, either directly or
indirectly, to influence Ida's ultimate decision. She must decide for
herself."

To Ida herself he also wrote at length:

"Dearest Ida," he ended, "I can say nothing more; you must judge for
yourself; and I shall accept your decision loyally whatever it may be.
It is unnecessary for me to tell you how inextricably my happiness in
life is interwoven with that decision, but at the same time I do not
wish to influence it. It certainly to my mind does not seem right that
a woman should be driven into sacrificing her whole life to secure any
monetary advantage either for herself or for others, but then the
world is full of things that are not right. I can give you no advice,
for I do not know what advice I ought to give. I try to put myself out
of the question and to consider you, and you only; but even then I
fear that my judgm