"Oh, papa, I fancied so this morning. Mamma is angry about it, and it pains me. It is as though you wanted me gone."
"My dear child! Gone! For our comfort I should wish you might never go, Mary. But for your own, it may be different."
"I do not wish to go," she sobbed. "I want to stay at home always. It was not my fault, papa, if I could not like Sir Harry."
"You should never, with my consent, marry any one you did not like, Mary; not if it were the greatest match in the three kingdoms. Why this distress, my dear? Mamma's vexation will blow over. She hoped—as Henry tells us—to see you converted into a 'real live My Lady.' 'My daughter, Lady Marr!' It will blow over, child."
Mary cried in silence. "And you will not let me be driven away, papa? You will keep me at home always?"
Mr. Ashley shook his head. "Always is a long day, Mary. Some one may be coming, less distasteful than Sir Harry Marr, who will induce you to leave it."
"No, never!" cried she, somewhat more vehemently than the case seemed to warrant. "Should any one be asking you for me, you can tell them 'No,' at once; do not trouble to bring the news to me."
"Any one, Mary?"
"Yes, papa, no matter who. Do not drive me away from you."
He stooped and kissed her. She stood at the window still, in a dreamy attitude, and watched the carriage drive off with Mr. Ashley. Presently Henry passed.