Here was her chance. The girl must marry this young man, whether she would or no. All those relatives who were coming to-morrow should not have a chance to scoff at her proud arrangements. The step-mother desired that they should all see how well she had done for the girl who was not her own. Besides, he was a goodly youth, full as handsome as the other man, and of the same family. What was there to object to? The girl might even be pleased, though there was no forecasting that. Such a queer girl would probably do the opposite from what was expected of her. The matter with her was that she was too young to know what she did want, and in the present circumstances it was best for her that some one else should decide her fate. She—Mrs. Van Rensselaer—would decide it. She would take matters into her own hands and see that all went the way it should go. Meantime, she picked at a bit of thread on her immaculate gown, and, to make time for thought, murmured again:
"Most commendable, I'm sure."
Charles's face lighted with hope. He was ready to fall upon the cold-looking lady's neck and embrace her, if that would hasten matters. He thought she looked more pleasing than when he had first seen her.
"I think, Mr. Van Rensselaer, you would do well to leave this matter in my hands now. As you say, it is a very delicate situation, and one that must be handled most carefully. I will go to Jemima at once and talk with her. I must break the news gently——"
"Of course, of course—the poor lamb!" murmured the kind old father of the reprobate bridegroom.
"She is very nervous and quite unstrung with the day's preparation," went on the step-mother, the more to work her will upon the feelings of those present.
"Of course, of course—poor child! Don't distress her any more than is necessary, I beg. It is dreadful for her, dreadful!"
"But it isn't quite as if she had never seen me," put in Charles wistfully. "Tell her I have loved her from the very first sight I had of her——"
The woman turned the chilly search-light of her eyes upon the young man's ardent face, and a sense of foreboding passed over him. Poor soul, she was only wondering what it must be like to have some one talk in that way about one. Still, she was keen to see an advantage, and knew it would help her in the task she had set herself to get rid of her step-daughter.
"Whatever you think best, Maria," assented Dawn's father wearily. He was glad, after all, not to have to tell the girl. He had come to fear her eyes, which were like her mother's, and her temper, which was his own.