The Squire breathed heavily and dark circles appeared under his sunken eyes as Mara stepped back to stand beside her lover. He knew that his daughter did not love him, or anyone else, but he had never believed she would have spoken as she had done. Undoubtedly the theory of reincarnation was a correct one. She was an Eastern soul in a Western body. "I consent to the marriage," he said in cold, dry hard tones. "You can go to the church on the moor and get the affair settled. I cannot come myself, but Basil and Patricia can go with you. Mara, you had better tell your maid to pack your clothes, since you leave to-morrow."
"Everything is already packed," said Mara, turning at the door and looking cool and white and more shadowy than ever. "I shall come and say good-bye."
"No, don't!" shuddered the Squire, as she went out. "You go also, Akira."
The Count smiled blandly and walked to the door. "I shall keep my promise, sir, and to-night you will receive one who will be able to tell you the whole truth of what has puzzled you for so long."
When Akira disappeared, the Squire tore up the blue letter and threw the pieces into the fire. He had done with Mara: she was no longer any daughter of his. And, indeed, she never had been. Always cold: always indifferent: a very shadow of what a daughter should have been. He was well rid of her, this traitress, who would have surrendered the emerald. Colpster felt under his sofa pillow and pulled out the gem. It was wrapped in paper, and he unfolded this to gaze at it. A knock at the door made him hastily smuggle it away again. Basil entered immediately and looked worried.
"Is it true, uncle, that Akira and Mara are to be married?" he asked abruptly.
"Quite true. Akira has brought down a special license. Go with Patricia and see that all is shipshape."
"But, Uncle George, surely you don't want Mara to marry a Japanese?"
"What does it matter? Whether I give my consent or not, Mara will do what she wants to do. There is some rubbish about reincarnation between them--about loving for seven lives, or for three hundred years. I don't understand these things. But what I do understand," cried Colpster with cold fury, raising himself on his elbow, "is that Mara does not love me, and that I intend to cut her out of my will. Send Jarvis to Hendle and tell Curtis the lawyer to come over at once. You will have the property, Basil, and then can marry Patricia. Theodore can go away. I won't have him in the house after the way he has insulted your future wife. As to Mara, she can go to the devil! or to Japan. I never wish to set eyes on her again!"
"But what has she done?" asked Basil, bewildered.