"Not till I know more than I know now," said Colonel Churchill. "If it's
George Lee, Jacqueline, I'll not say a word, sorry as I am for Cary. But
if it's Will Allen, I'll see you dead before I give my consent! He's a
spendthrift and a Republican!"

"I care neither for Mr. Lee nor Mr. Allen," said Jacqueline, with a
burning cheek. "Oh, Uncle Edward, make Uncle Dick let me go!"

"It is not wise," Major Churchill considered within himself, "to push a
woman too far. I'm a suspicious fool to think this thing of Jacqueline.
It's all some girl's fancy or other, and if we go easily Cary will yet
win--by God, he shall win! This damned Yahoo upstairs is neither here
nor there!"

He spoke aloud to his brother. "Best let the child go think it over,
Dick. She knows her duty--and that we expect her compliance. She doesn't
want to wound us cruelly, to make us unhappy, to prove herself blind and
ingrate. Give her a kiss and let her go."

"You come down and sing to us to-night, my little Jack, in your blue
gown," quoth Uncle Dick. "Don't you ever let a time come when your
singing won't be the sweetest sound in the world to me! Now go, and
think of what we have said, and of poor Cary, ridden off to Greenwood!"

Jacqueline gazed at the two for a moment, and made as if to speak, but
the words died in her throat. She uttered a broken cry, turned, groped a
little for the door, found and opened it, and was gone. They heard the
click of her slippers upon the stairs, and presently the closing of a
blind in the room that was hers.