And Gertrude ended by expressing her deep regret at the
continuance of the family disagreement, to which her attention had
been specifically drawn for the first time, and her hope that it might
be approaching its termination. Every word of the narrative increased
the interest which was already warm in Mildred's heart, and made her
feel a greater repugnance to receiving Melcomb in the equivocal manner
recommended by her sister.

CHAPTER XV.

"Regretter ce qu'on aime est un bien, en comparaison de
vivre avec ce que l'on hait."

LA BRUYERE.

Mildred's trial was not destined to last long. Her suitor was more
impatient than Mrs. Winston predicted. He would, indeed, as she
suggested, have willingly continued to accept a vicarious consent,
until things had gone so far that his intended bride should be unable
to recede. Hitherto he had given her no opportunity for resistance,
and now with all his assurance he dreaded to begin. Mildred's
indifference was so chilling that his spirits deserted him in her
presence. He would have left her free, but for the fear of ridicule,
and the need, the pressing need, of her fortune. The time came to make
the plunge.

"Miss Pendarrel," Melcomb said, as they sat together in a small
drawing-room, "dear Miss Pendarrel, you must be aware how long I have
been the most devoted of your servants."

Mildred had acquired the habit of receiving Melcomb's compliments in
silence. She said nothing.

"It is true no service could make any man worthy of Miss Pendarrel,"
the suitor continued; "yet I have been led to hope, unworthy as I am,
that mine might not be doomed to be endless. Is it not so, dear Miss
Pendarrel?"

"You have been led to hope nothing by me, Mr. Melcomb," Mildred
answered, agitated by the unusual embarrassment in his manner.

"Nay," urged the coxcomb, "may I not hope from the position which Miss
Pendarrel has permitted me to assume...."

"You have had no permission from me, Mr. Melcomb," said Mildred,
interrupting him. She had well prepared herself for the scene, and
preserved her spirit, though very much distressed.

"Surely," he continued, "I am not presumptuous in considering it
implied."

Mildred was silent. Hers was no case for argument.

"Not presumptuous," Melcomb went on, speaking more rapidly, "in
aspiring to the happiness which that permission seemed to promise. Not
presumptuous in imploring dear M