The colossal impudence of it!  This young man, this extremely common young man, daring to talk to her about such a private matter!  And she had not yet known him a month; and only within the last fortnight had he been making frequent visits—­entirely on his own invitation, for she certainly would not overtly provoke such a visitation as his coming meant.  Mrs. Severence would have been angry had she dared.  But Craig’s manner was most alarming; what would—­what would not a person so indifferent to the decencies of life do if he were crossed?

“She must get married,” pursued Craig firmly.  “Do you know why I’ve been coming here these past two or three weeks?”

Mrs. Severence was astounded anew.  The man was actually about to propose for her daughter!  This common man, with nothing!

“It’s not my habit to make purposeless visits,” continued he, “especially among frivolous, idle people like you.  I’ve been coming here to make a study of your daughter.”

He paused.  Mrs. Severence gave a feeble, frightened smile, made a sound that might have been mirth and again might have been the beginnings of a hastily-suppressed call for help.

“And,” Craig went on energetically, “I find that she is a very superior sort of person.  In another environment she might have been a big, strong woman.  She’s amazing, considering the sickly, sycophantic atmosphere she’s been brought up in.  Now, I want to see her married.  She’s thoroughly discontented and unhappy.  She’s becoming sour and cynical.  We must get her married.  It’s your duty to rouse yourself.”

Mrs. Severence did rouse herself just at this moment.  Cheeks aflame and voice trembling, she stood and said: 

“You are very kind, Mr. Craig, to offer to assist me in bringing up my family.  Surely—­such—­such interest is unusual on brief and very slight acquaintance.”  She rang the bell.  “I can show my appreciation in only one way.”  The old butler, Williams, appeared.  “Williams, show this gentlemen out.”  And she left the room.

Williams, all frigid dignity and politeness, stood at the large entrance doors, significantly holding aside one curtain.  Craig rose, his face red.  “Mrs. Severence isn’t very well,” said he noisily to the servant, as if he were on terms of closest intimacy with the family.  “Tell Margaret I’ll wait for her in the garden.”  And he rushed out by the window that opened on the veranda, leaving the amazed butler at the door, uncertain what to do.

Mrs. Severence, ascending the stairs in high good humor with herself at having handled a sudden and difficult situation as well as she had ever read of its being handled in a novel, met her daughter descending.

“Sh-h!” said she in a whisper, for she had not heard the front door close.  “He may not be gone.  Come with me.”

Margaret followed her mother into the library at the head of the stairs.

“It was that Craig man,” explained Mrs. Severence, when she had the door closed.  “What do you think he had the impudence to do?”