’Merely to think no more of Captain Hibbert.  But I didn’t tell you;—­he was very impertinent to me when I last saw him.  He said he would flirt with you, as long as you would flirt with him, and that he didn’t see why you shouldn’t amuse yourself.  That’s what I want to warn you against—­losing your chance of being a marchioness to help an idle young officer to while away his time.  If I were you, I would tell him, when I next saw him, that he must not think about it any more.  You can put it all down to me; say that I would never hear of it; say that you couldn’t think of disobeying me, but that you hope you will always remain friends.  You see, that’s the advantage of having a mother;—­poor mamma has to bear everything.’

Olive made no direct answer, but she laughed nervously, and in a manner that betokened assent; and, having so far won her way, Mrs. Barton determined to conclude.  But she could not invite Captain Hibbert to the house!  The better plan would be to meet on neutral ground.  A luncheon-party at Dungory Castle instantly suggested itself; and three days after, as they drove through the park, Mrs. Barton explained to Olive, for the last time, how she should act if she wished to become the Marchioness of Kilcarney.

’Shake hands with him just as if nothing had happened, but don’t enter into conversation; and after lunch I shall arrange that we all go out for a walk on the terrace.  You will then pair off with him, Alice; Olive will join you.  Something will be sure to occur that will give her an opportunity of saying that he must think no more about her—­that I would never consent.’

‘Oh! mamma, it is very hard, for I can never forget him.’

‘Now, my dear girl, for goodness’ sake don’t work yourself up into a state of mind, or we may as well go back to Brookfield.  What I tell you to do is right; and if you see nobody at the Castle that you like better—­well, then it will be time enough.  I want you to be, at least, the beauty of one season.’

This argument again turned the scales.  Olive laughed, but her laugh was full of the nervous excitement from which she suffered.

‘I shan’t know what to say,’ she exclaimed, tossing her head, ’so I hope you will help me out of my difficulty, Alice.’

‘I wish I could be left out of it altogether,’ said the girl, who was sitting with her back to the horses.  ’It seems to me that I am being put into a very false position!’

‘Put into a false position!’ said Mrs. Barton.  ’I’ll hear no more of this!  If you won’t do as you are told, you had better go back to St. Leonards—­such wicked jealousy!’

‘Oh, mamma!’ said Alice, wounded to the quick, ’how can you be so unjust?

And her eyes filled with tears, for since she had left school she had experienced only a sense of retreating within herself, but so long as she was allowed to live within herself she was satisfied.  But this refuge was no longer available.  She must take part in the scuffle; and she couldn’t.  But whither to go?  There seemed to be no escape from the world into which she had been thrust, and for no purpose but to suffer.  But the others didn’t suffer.  Why wasn’t she like them?