"Then what is the matter?" he asked.

"I know no more than you."

"Does he not wish it?"

"She says so."

"Then--"

"Yes, that is what I say. And yet that says nothing. There is something
more."

"Ask her."

"I have asked her. She bids me wait, as she bids you. It is no good, Mr.
Manners. We must wait the maid's time."

He sat, breathing audibly through his nose.

* * * * *

These two were devoted to their daughter in a manner hardly to be
described. She was the only one left to them; for the others, of whom
two had been boys, had died in infancy or childhood; and, in the event,
Marjorie had absorbed the love due to them all. She was a strain higher
than themselves, thought her parents, and so pride in her was added to
love. The mother had made incredible sacrifices, first to have her
educated by a couple of old nuns who still survived in Derby, and then