‘So you have not got that nonsense out of your head!’ exclaimed Mr. Ponsonby, with muttered words that Mary would not hear.  ’All my fault for ever sending you among that crew!  Coming between you and the best match in Lima—­the best fellow in the world—­strict enough to content Melicent or your mother either!  What have you to say against him, Mary?  I desire to know that.’

‘Nothing, papa,’ said Mary, ’except that I wish he could make a better choice.’

’I tell you, you and he were made for each other.  It is the most provoking thing in the world, that you will go on in this obstinate way!  I can’t even ask the man to do me a kindness, with having an eye to these abominable affairs, that are all going to the dogs.  There’s old Dynevor left his senses behind him when he went off to play the great man in England, writing every post for remittances, when he knows what an outlay we’ve been at for machinery; and there’s the Equatorial Company cutting its own throat at Guayaquil, and that young fellow up at the San Benito not half to be trusted—­Robson can’t make out his accounts; and here am I such a wretch that I can hardly tell what two and two make; and here’s Ward, the very fellow to come in and set all straight in the nick of time; and I can’t ask him so much as to look at a paper for me, because I’m not to lay myself under an obligation.’

’But, papa, if our affairs are not prosperous, it would not be fair to connect Mr. Ward or any one with them.’

’Never you trouble yourself about that!  You’ll come in for a pretty fortune of your own, whatever happens to that abominable cheat of a Company; and that might be saved if only I was the man I was, or Dynevor was here.  If Ward would give us a loan, and turn his mind to it, we should be on our legs in an instant.  It is touch and go just now!—­I declare, Mary,’ he broke out again after an interval, ’I never saw anything so selfish as you are!  Lingering and pining on about this foolish young man, who has never taken any notice of you since you have been out here, and whom you hear is in love with another woman—­married to her very likely by this time—­or, maybe, only wishing you were married and out of his way.’

‘I do not believe so,’ answered Mary, stoutly.

‘What! you did not see Oliver’s letter from that German place?’

‘Yes, I did,’ said Mary; ‘but I know his manner to Clara.’

‘You do?  You take things coolly, upon my word!’

‘No,’ said Mary.  ’I know they are like brother and sister, and Clara could never have written to me as she has done, had there been any such notion.  But that is not the point, papa.  What I know is, that while my feelings are what they are at present, it would not be right of me to accept any one; and so I shall tell Mr. Ward, if he is still determined to see me.  Pray forgive me, dear papa.  I do admire and honour him very much, but I cannot do any more; and I am sorry I have seemed pining or discontented, for I tried not to be so.’