’My dear father!  I know all the Perrys by heart.  Mrs Jonathan is not likely to have left me ignorant of their antiquity.  But, pray, do you want to get rid of me, that you force me upon poor Rowland, or him upon me, whichever it may be?’

’Of course not, my dear.  Only I am naturally anxious to see you settled.  And if you really like him—­’

’But I am settled, and I do not like him; that is to say, I like him well enough, fifty times better than I used to like him, but I have not the most remote intention of marrying him.  And now, I should like to know what particular reason Lady Mary Nugent had for putting this absurd notion into your head.  There must be something, my dear papa, under all this sudden anxiety to get me married.  You used rather to rejoice when I declined settling Glanyravon on a suitor.’

’Yes, my dear—­but—­you see—­it is not quite certain that Glanyravon—­I mean that you—­I mean that I—­in short—­the fact is—­you are so impetuous, Freda.’

‘What can my impetuosity have to do with it?’

Freda saw that her father was more than usually nervous and fidgety, and became alarmed lest there should be some sudden money difficulty, as any threat, however slight, of debt or involvement always made him ill.  She sat down beside him, and putting her hand in his, as it rested on a table nervously fidgeting with a pen, she said gently,—­

‘Now, pappy, I hope we are not all going to jail?’

’By no means; the tenants are most prosperous.  I could raise any sum if necessary, and give you a marriage portion suitable in every way.’

What was there in this marriage scheme?  Freda grew impatient and indignant again.

’Now, really, papa, this is too absurd; If you have anything on your mind, will you say it?’

’Well—­the fact is, Freda, that you—­I mean that I, have made up my mind—­you see you may marry, and leave me alone, and I should want a companion, and—­and all that sort of thing, you know—­so I have considered—­for your—­for our—­for my, perhaps—­happiness, that it might be well for me to—­to—­to—­in short, my dear—­to marry again; in fact, Freda, I have resolved to do so.’

‘Lady Mary Nugent!’ screamed Freda; ’not her! not her! not settled! oh papa!’

Mr Gwynne had called Freda impetuous, but he was not prepared for the sudden burst of uncontrollable grief that followed his announcement.  Often as Freda had jested over the proposal Lady Mary was to make her father, she had never believed that he would marry her.  It came upon her like the news of an unexpected death, or great family misfortune.  She covered her face with her hands, and sobbed till her father thought she must burst some blood vessel then and there before him.  He got up, sat down; went to the bell, touched the rope, let it go; opened the window, put his hand on Freda’s bowed head, called her by name, and, in return, was greeted by—­