He was surprised and not pleased, nevertheless, that Mabel retired
without other reply than a simple "Good-night," said without temper,
or any evidence of excitement. A month before, a milder sarcasm, the
lightest breath of reproof, would have brought her to his feet in a
paroxysm of tears, to implore pardon for her contumacy, and to
promise obedience for all time to come. She was getting beyond his
control the while she offered no open resistance to his government.
Was sorrowful shame, or her infatuation for the adventurer he cursed
in his heart by his gods, the influence that was petrifying her into
this unlovely caricature of her once bright and affectionate self?

She presented herself, unsummoned, in his study at the expiration of
the period she had designated, a pacquet in her hand, neatly done up
and sealed.

"I will trouble you to direct it," was all she said, as she laid it
before him.

"This is done of your own free will--remember!" he said,
impressively. "In after years, should you be so unreasonable as to
regret it, there must be no misconception on the subject between us.
If you wish, at this, the eleventh hour, to draw back, I shall not
oppose you."

"You will write the address, then, if you please!" was Mabel's
reply, showing him the surface intended for it.

Then she left him.

"A sensible girl, after all! a genuine Aylett, in will and