“O Auntie! what if he should order me to give Frederic up!” she ejaculated, pausing at the door, in an agony of trepidation.  “I never disobeyed him in my life.”

“He will not do that, dear, never fear!  He can find no pretext for such summary proceedings.  And should he oppose your wishes, be firm of purpose, and do not forsake your affianced husband,” advised the old lady, solemnly.  “There is a duty which takes precedence, in the sight of Heaven and man, of that you owe your brother.  Remember this, and take courage.”

Mabel’s roses returned in profusion, when, upon entering the arbiter’s dread presence, she saw Frederic Chilton, standing on the opposite side of the table from that at which sat her brother at his ease, his white fingers still idly interlaced, his pale patrician face emotionless as that of the bust of Apollo upon the top of the bookcase behind him.  It was Frederic who led her to a chair, when she stopped, trembling midway in the apartment, and his touch upon her arm inspirited her to raise her regards to Winston’s countenance at the sound of his voice.

“I have sent for you, Mabel, that I may repeat in you hearing the reply I have returned to Mr. Chilton’s application for my sanction to your engagement—­I should say, perhaps, to your reciprocal attachment.  The betrothal of a minor without the consent, positive or implied, of her parent or guardian is, as I have just explained to Mr. Chilton, but an empty name in this State.  I have promised, then, not to oppose your marriage, provided the inquiries I shall institute concerning Mr. Chilton’s previous life, his character, and his ability to maintain you in comfort, are answered satisfactorily.  He will understand and excuse my pertinacity upon this point when he reflects upon the value of the stake involved in this transaction.”

In all their intercourse, Frederic had no more gracious notice from Mabel’s brother than this semi-apology, delivered with stately condescension, and a courtly bow in his direction.

It sounded very grand to Mabel, whose fears of opposition or severity from her Mentor had shaken courage and nerves into pitiable distress.  Frederic could desire nothing more affable than Winston’s smile; no more abundant encouragement than was afforded by his voluntary pledge.  Had not the thought savored of disloyalty to her lover, she would have confessed herself disappointed that his reply did not effervesce with gratitude, that his deportment was distant, his tone constrained.

“I appreciate the last-named consideration, Mr. Aylett, I believe, thoroughly, as you do.  I have already told you that I invite, not shirk, the investigation you propose.  I now repeat my offer of whatever facility is at my command for carrying this on.  No honorable man could do less.  Unless I mistake, you wish now to see your sister alone.”

He bent his head slightly, and without other and especial salutation to his betrothed, withdrew.