If labour goes on as it is at present, I
suppose we shall have to be grateful for being allowed to live at
all. . . ."

Vane looked at Joan, who was still staring at the floor in front of
her, and almost mechanically he returned her the letter. . . .

"You've known this was coming, Joan," he said at last. . . .

"Of course," she answered. "But it doesn't make it any better now it
has. One always hopes." She shrugged her shoulders, and looked up at
him. "Give me a cigarette, Derek, I don't think I'd have minded quite
so much if it hadn't come to-day. . . ."

He held out the match for her, and then with his elbow on the
mantelpiece he stood watching her. She seemed inert, lifeless, and the
contrast with the laughing, happy girl at dinner hit him like a blow.
If only he could help--do something; but a hundred thousand was an
absurdity. His total income was only about fifteen hundred a year.
And as if to torment him still more there rose before his mind the
cold, confident face of Henry Baxter. . . .

"Joan--does it matter so frightfully much giving up Blandford?"

She looked at him for a moment, with a sort of amazement on her face.
"My dear," she said, "I simply can't imagine life without Blandford.
It's just part of me. . . ."

"But when you marry you wouldn't live there yourself," he argued.

She raised her eyebrows. "Pride of place belongs to women as much as
to men," she answered simply. "Why, Derek, don't try to pretend that
you don't understand that." She gave a little tired laugh. "Besides,
it's Dad--and Gordon. . . ."

"And you'd sacrifice yourself for them," he cried. "Not to keep them
from want, don't forget--but to keep them at Blandford!" She made no
answer, and after a while he went on. "I said I'd come to-morrow,
Joan, and ask you to decide; but this letter alters things a bit, my
dear. I guess we've got to have things out now. . . ."

The girl moved restlessly and rested her head on her hand.

"You've said it once, lady; I want to hear you say it again. 'Do you
love me?'"

"Yes; I love you," she said without the slightest hesitation.

"And would you marry me if there was no Blandford?"

"To-morrow," she answered simply, "if you wanted it."

With a sudden ungovernable rush of feeling Vane swept her out of the
chair into his arms, and she clung to him panting and breathless.

"My dear," he said exultantly, "do you suppose that after that I'd let
you go? Not for fifty Blandf