"Well, I hope you will keep to all that," says Lady Rylton, who is
shrewd as she is cruel, "and that you will not interfere with this
marriage I have arranged for Maurice."

"Why would I interfere?"

"Because you interfere always. You can't bear to see any man love
any woman but yourself."

Mrs. Bethune smiles. "A common fault. It belongs to most women. But
this girl--you like her?"

"On the contrary, as I have told you, I detest her. Once Maurice has
her money safely in his hands, I shall know how to deal with her. A
little, ignorant, detestable child! I tell you, Marian, that the
time will come when I shall pay her out for her silly insolence
towards me."

"She is evidently going to have a good time if Maurice proposes to
her."

"He _shall_ propose. Why----" She breaks off suddenly. "Not another
word," says she, putting up her hand. "Here is Maurice. I shall
speak to him now."

"Shall I stay and help you?"

"No, thank you," says Lady Rylton, with a little knowing grimace.

Seeing it, Marian's detestation grows apace. She rises--and calmly,