But if she hoped that her coldness would repel him, she was destined to be disappointed.  On the contrary, like water thrown on burning oil, it only inflamed him the more.

“The love will come, Ida,” he said, and once more he tried to take her hand.

“No, Mr. Cossey,” she said, in a voice that checked him.  “I am sorry to have to speak so plainly, but till I marry I am my own mistress.  Pray understand me.”

“As you like,” he said, drawing back from her sulkily.  “I am so fond of you that I will marry you on any terms, and that is the truth.  I have, however, one thing to ask of you, Ida, and it is that you will keep our engagement secret for the present, and get your father (I suppose I must speak to him) to do the same.  I have reasons,” he went on by way of explanation, “for not wishing it to become known.”

“I do not see why I should keep it secret,” she said; “but it does not matter to me.”

“The fact is,” he explained, “my father is a very curious man, and I doubt if he would like my engagement, because he thinks I ought to marry a great deal of money.”

“Oh, indeed,” answered Ida.  She had believed, as was indeed the case, that there were other reasons not unconnected with Mrs. Quest, on account of which he was anxious to keep the engagement secret.  “By the way,” she went on, “I am sorry to have to talk of business, but this is a business matter, is it not?  I suppose it is understood that, in the event of our marriage, the mortgage you hold over this place will not be enforced against my father.”

“Of course not,” he answered.  “Look here, Ida, I will give you those mortgage bonds as a wedding present, and you can put them in the fire; and I will make a good settlement on you.”

“Thank you,” she said, “but I do not require any settlement on myself; I had rather none was made; but I consent to the engagement only on the express condition that the mortgages shall be cancelled before marriage, and as the property will ultimately come to me, this is not much to ask.  And now one more thing, Mr. Cossey; I should like to know when you would wish this marriage to take place; not yet, I presume?”

“I could wish it to take place to-morrow,” he said with an attempt at a laugh; “but I suppose that between one thing and another it can’t come off at once.  Shall we say this time six months, that will be in May?”

“Very good,” said Ida; “this day six months I shall be prepared to become your wife, Mr. Cossey.  I believe,” she added with a flash of bitter sarcasm, “it is the time usually allowed for the redemption of a mortgage.”

“You say very hard things,” he answered, wincing.

“Do I?  I daresay.  I am hard by nature.  I wonder that you can wish to marry me.”

“I wish it beyond everything in the world,” he answered earnestly.  “You can never know how much.  By the way, I know I was foolish about Colonel Quaritch; but, Ida, I cannot bear to see that man near you.  I hope that you will now drop his acquaintance as much as possible.”