but it had become stronger as the old woman grew to be older and more feeble, and it was believed now to be settled as Fate.  ’She’d sooner give it all to old Barty over the way,’ Martha had once said, ’than let it go to her own kith and kin.  And if she do hate any human creature, she do hate Barty Burgess.’  She assented, however, to Dorothy’s proposal; and, though Mrs Stanbury and Priscilla were astounded by the precipitancy of the measure, they did not attempt to oppose it.

‘And what am I to do?’ said Brooke, when he was told.

‘You’ll come tomorrow, of course,’ said Dorothy.

’But it may be that the two of us together will be too many for the dear old lunatic.’

’You shan’t call her a lunatic, Brooke.  She isn’t so much a lunatic as you are, to run counter to her, and disobey her, and all that kind of thing.’

‘And how about yourself?’

‘How can I help it, Brooke?  It is you that say it must be so.’

’Of course it must.  Who is to be stayed from doing what is reasonable because an old woman has a bee on her bonnet.  I don’t believe in people’s wills.’

‘She can do what she likes about it, Brooke.’

’Of course she can, and of course she will.  What I mean is that it never pays to do this or that because somebody may alter his will, or may make a will, or may not make a will.  You become a slave for life, and then your dead tyrant leaves you a mourning-ring, and grins at you out of his grave.  All the same she’ll kick up a row, I fancy, and you’ll have to bear the worst of it.’

’I’ll tell her the truth; and if she be very angry, I’ll just come home again.  But I think I’ll come home tomorrow any way, so that I’ll pass you on the road.  That will be best.  She won’t want us both together.  Only then, Brooke, I shan’t see you again.’

‘Not till June.’

‘And is it to be really in June?’

‘You say you don’t like May.’

’You are such a goose, Brooke.  It will be May almost tomorrow.  I shall be such a poor wife for you, Brooke.  As for getting my things ready, I shall not bring hardly any things at all.  Have you thought what it is to take a body so very poor?’

’I own I haven’t thought as much about it, Dolly, as I ought to have done, perhaps.’

‘It is too late now, Brooke.’

‘I suppose it is.’

’Quite too late.  A week ago I could have borne it.  I had almost got myself to think that it would be better that I should bear it.  But you have come, and banished all the virtue out of my head.  I am ashamed of myself, because I am so unworthy; but I would put up with that shame rather than lose you now.  Brooke, Brooke, I will so try to be good to you!’