"Quite true," agreed her niece; "but, nevertheless, I am going to marry him. I asked him to marry me a year ago."
"You don't mane that, Helena!" said poor Miss Blake. "You should not talk like an infant in arms."
"We are only waiting for your consent," went on my lady fair.
"Then that you will never have. While I retain my powers of speech you shall not marry a pauper who has only asked you for the sake of your money."
"He did not ask me; I asked him," said Helena, mischievously; "and he is not a beggar. His uncle has bought him a partnership, and is going to leave him his money; and he will be here himself to-morrow, to tell you all about his prospects."
At first, Miss Blake refused to see me; but after a time she relented, and, thankful, perhaps, to have once again anyone over whom she could tyrannise, treated her niece's future husband—as Helena declared—most shamefully.
"But you two must learn to agree, for there shall be no quarrelling in our house," added the pretty autocrat.
"You needn't trouble yourself about that, Helena," said her aunt.
"He'll be just like all the rest. If he's civil to me before marriage, he won't be after. He will soon find out there is no place in the house, or, for that matter, in the world, for Susan Blake"; and my enemy, for the first time in my memory, fairly broke down and began to whimper.
"Miss Blake," I said, "how can I convince you that I never dreamt, never could dream of asking you and Helena to separate?"