it should be," he answered sullenly; "but see
here, Ida, you may make your own terms about money. Marriage, after
all, is very much a matter of bargaining, and I am not going to stand
out about the price."

"You are really most generous," went on Ida in the same bitter tone,
the irony of which made her father wince, for he understood her mood
better than did her lover. "I only regret that I cannot appreciate
such generosity more than I do. But it is at least in my power to give
you the return which you deserve. So I can no longer hesitate, but
once and for all----"

She stopped dead, and stared at the glass door as though she saw a
ghost. Both her father and Edward Cossey followed the motion of her
eyes, and this was what they saw. Up the steps came Colonel Quaritch
and George. Both were pale and weary-looking, but the former was at
least clean. As for George, this could not be said. His head was still
adorned with the red nightcap, his hands were cut and dirty, and on
his clothes was an unlimited quantity of encrusted filth.

"What the dickens----" began the Squire, and at that moment George,
who was leading, knocked at the door.

"You can't come in now," roared the Squire; "don't you see that we are
engaged?"

"But we must come in, Squire, begging your pardon," answered George,
with determination, as he opened the door; "we've got that to say as
won't keep."

"I tell you that it must keep, sir," said the old gentleman, working
himself into a rage. "Am I not to be allowed a moment's privacy in my
own house? I wonder at your conduct, Colonel Quaritch, in forcing your
presence upon me when I tell you that it is not wanted."

"I am sure that I apologise, Mr. de la Molle," began the Colonel,
utterly taken aback, "but what I have to say is----"

"The best way that you can apologise is by withdrawing," answered the
Squire with majesty. "I shall be most happy to hear what you have to
say on another occasion."

"Oh, Squire, Squire, don't be such a fule, begging your pardon for the
word," said George, in exasperation. "Don't you go a-knocking of your
head agin a brick wall."

"Will you be off, sir?" roared his master in a voice that made the
walls shake.

By this time Ida had recovered herself. She seemed to feel that her
lover had something to say which concerned her deeply--probably she
read it in his eyes.

"Father," she said, raising her voice, "I won't have Colonel Quaritch
turned away from the door like t